


They'll Know Me as Joan

by Meerkatgirl13 (20DruidicKats)



Series: The Delroy Chronicals [1]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Cataclysm, Gen, Worgen, Worgen starting experience, World of Warcraft - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 53,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4919401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/20DruidicKats/pseuds/Meerkatgirl13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every Gilnean remembers the Night of Affliction differently. Every one of them has a story to tell of that terrible night. Lady Jeanne Delroy and her brothers were part of those defenders and, like the others, have a story to tell. This is their story; a story of an unbreakable family bond that endures through everything Fate throws at them. Worgen starting experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions and Intruders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are introduced to the family dynamic between the Delroys as they prepare to attend the Gilnean Royal Court.

A young man stood in the gateway leading out of the city watching an old cart slowly bump towards him. The man, labeled handsome by many of the unmarried ladies of Gilneas, smiled pleasantly as figures became recognizable on the approaching cart; his dark green eyes seeking only the one person that mattered to him. His smile widened as he caught sight of her.

The young woman looked up sharply as the person seated beside her leaned over to tell her something. Her eyes immediately locked with his and he gave her a jaunty, almost teasing, wave. A scowl marred her expression as she brushed off the man beside her.

The young man brushed his hazel hair out of his eyes as a sudden breeze caught it and watched as the cart get close enough for him to hear its wooden wheels creaking on the cobblestone. He heard the impatient young woman shoot a question to the driver who simply waved in answer. The young woman promptly hopped off the cart when it was near enough to the handsome young man and jogged to where he was waiting.

"Welcome back Jeanne. I do hope the harvest-witches treated you well."

The young man grinned at the female approaching him, scowl still firmly in place on her otherwise lovely face.

"Cerdic," she greeted shortly, emerald eyes roaming over his figure briefly before searching the area beyond him, "Why are you here? I thought Ammon was supposed to get me."

A small frown tugged at the corners of Cerdic's lips as he offered his arm to his sister, the woman habitually taking it. "He never stopped by the house. He's probably skulking somewhere with those so-called 'trainers' he has taken a liking to. Common criminals the lot of them."

"Cerdic," Jeanne huffed, her tone sharp with irritation, "My twin is not a criminal. This is no more a crime than your own martial training. Or mine for that matter."

Cerdic's frown got deeper as he led Jeanne across the dim and gloomy square, only punctuated by the lit oil lanterns and the occasional pair of guards patrolling the streets. He paused as a pair passed by, nodding to them in greeting before picking up the conversation again.

"Your own training is a crime as well." Cerdic said, "You should be here with me in the city or married and tending your own household like a noblewoman of your station should be. Not off traipsing around the woods and playing with animals like some kind of savage."

Jeanne's face twisted in annoyance and exasperation, her hands clenching the heavy woolen fabric as the urge to smack her brother rose up.

"Has it ever occurred to you, dear brother, that I don't want a husband? I don't wish to be bartered and given over like a prize mastiff!"

"I am only looking out for your welfare, Sister," Cerdic countered, calm as ever in face of Jeanne's temper, "If something were to happen to me then who will care for you? Ammon is out of the question, seeing as he has shamed our family name enough, running around with common criminals."

"I don't need someone protecting me! I am not a defenseless child!"

"No, you're not. However, you still need a man to speak for you."

With an infuriated growl, Jeanne stabbed a pale finger into the bigger man's chest. "I don't need any man to speak for me as if I have no brain and no opinion. Any who tries are not worthy of me!"

Jeanne glanced up at the sight of her brother's 'meager' living quarters, scowling as she recognized it for what it was.

"I'll never figure out why the King give you back the townhouse. He reclaimed it after Papa died." she muttered to herself, knowing her brother would overhear.

"Being the admiral of his personal navy helps things."

"A title you only inherited," she grumbled, allowing him to escort her up the pathway, "Papa was the one who earned it. Besides, the King doesn't really have a navy anymore."

"That may be," Cerdic replied, hurt colouring his tone a bit, "But he isn't here now. I am the eldest so it is fitting that it goes to me."

"Though I was always the better sailor."

"You are a woman!" Frustration heating his words more clearly now that they were inside his home and not in public, "It is not acceptable for you to run off like a wild harpy and do as you please!"

"Says who?" Jeanne challenged, letting her anger flow freely now, "This bleeding society that cares more for fashion and appearances than the happiness of its people?! That only wants to keep us women chained to the notion that we are nothing but helpless, weak playthings?"

Cerdic opened his mouth to retort when he caught sight of the rosebushes growing outside the front windows. They were now about twice the size they originally were and waving frantically, as if a strong wind had caught them. Some branches were beating against the glass, creating a ruckus he was deaf to until that moment.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, letting most of his anger and frustration out on an exhale, he looked back up at his enraged sister in front of him and holding his hands out in a placating manner.

"Jeanne, sister, we don't need to fight as we always do. Can we agree to disagree this time? You're making the roses beat down the windows again."

Snorting, she took a deep breath and visibly tried to reign her emotions in. After the third purposeful exhale, the roses ceased their barrage and settled back down in their beds.

"You would've deserved it if they had broken your precious windows," she snapped, whirling around and starting towards the nearest stairwell, "I assume there are fresh gowns waiting in my rooms and that I need to be out in time for dinner."

"Bathe quickly Jeanne, we dine with the King tonight," Cerdic called after her, making her freeze in her tracks.

_"When were you going to inform me of that?!"_

"When you had calmed down, dear sister," Cerdic grinned up at the flustered and infuriated stare she leveled at him, "and that wasn't until now. Please hurry; it wouldn't do if we were late to the King's hall."

With a huff, Jeanne picked up her traveling skirts and ran out of sight, barreling through the poor maids. Cerdic shook his head and retreated to his own quarters to freshen up while his sister is most likely rushing through her bathing routine.

 _"As unorthodox as Jeanne is,"_ he thought, whistling a merry tune as he changed into fresher clothes, _"She still has the sense to not keep the King waiting. Especially now that he's taken interest in her as a potential candidate for the Prince's hand."_

Jeanne tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the maid to finish lacing up the back of her gown. She had indeed rushed through her bathing routine, not truly noticing the expensive soaps she was using in her rush to scrub away the traveling dirt and grime. Now that she was looking at herself in the looking-glass above her vanity did she notice the way her bright red hair shone in the light of the many candle-lit lanterns.

 _"Damn soap must be enchanted,"_ she thought bitterly, watching the maid comb and manipulate her hair into an elegant pile on top of her head, _"He definitely is going all out this time. This does not bode well for me."_

The maid pushed a final jeweled pin into her locks and stood back, examining her handiwork. She came forward to make a few more tweaks and finally nodded her approval, smiling widely.

"Lady Delroy, please stand and let me give you another look over."

Rolling her eyes, Jeanne did as she was told, standing still as the maid made a few circles around her, reaching to tweak a few things on her person before nodding.

Another couple maids, who were sent to collect Jeanne's laundry and tidy up the washroom, gawked at the young lady clothed in the finest forest green silk that money could buy and hair up in an elegant updo. Matching green jewels swung from the Lady's ears as she turned to examine herself in the looking-glass.

"Oh, she's going to make a fine bride for the Prince," a maid sighed wistfully, jumping as her companion turned on her, hissing to be quiet.

The Lady's eyes flew to their reflections and narrowed in scrutiny. "Maid, repeat yourself. I didn't quite hear you the first time."

The maid attending to the Lady Jeanne turned and glared at her underling, daring her to repeat the secret they swore to keep. The girl froze in a good likeness of a deer as her brown eyes flicked between the two women.

"Well?" Jeanne demanded, turning bodily to face the girl, "Speak!"

"I-I said," she stuttered, clenching her eyes shut and damned her loose tongue, "t-that you'd make a fine bride for the Prince."

Jeanne's eyes widened in shock then narrowed as fury boiled in her eyes. Her entire form shook for a few moments before the woman took a breath and composed herself.

"I see," Jeanne spoke slowly, forced calm coating her words. "I do believe I am fit to see my brother. Please take me to him."

"Right away my Lady," the head maid assured, giving the pair a last scathing glare before escorting Jeanne out of the room.

Jeanne held her temper as the maid led her back down the hall and onto the stairwell overlooking the main entryway. She glowered down at the sight of her older brother standing talking to a shorter, leaner young man. As if sensing her anger, both males looked up at her practically stomping down the wooden stairs.

The younger man, Ammon, cocked an eyebrow and glanced between Jeanne and Cerdic, stating after a few moments, "I told you she'd catch on, Cerd. You're an idiot for thinking you could hide this for long."

The eldest sibling shot a hostile look at the younger redhead, making him fall silent.

_"So when were you going to tell me you set me up with the Prince?!"_

"Technically, I did not," Cerdic replied calmly, glancing at the roses that had taken up beating down the windows again, "The Queen was the one asking of your welfare, as you had not been to court in six years. The King was the one who asked me to bring you to dine with the court this month. There's only one reason for him to make such a request and that is to—"

"To formally introduce me to the Prince," Jeanne finished dully, leaning unladylike against the wooden wall.

She glared at him as he made a move towards her, stopping him in his tracks. "And you didn't see fit to tell me until now, right before court?"

Cerdic laughed nervously and raised a hand to run his fingers through his hair. He caught himself and dropped his hand to his side.

"I guess you can say that I forgot..?"

Jeanne stared at him for a few moments, waiting for a better explanation. When none was forthcoming she threw her hands up in the air and made a sound of disgust.

"By the Light Cerdic! You have to be the most idiotic, manipulative wank—"

Jeanne was interrupted by the sound of a carriage pulling in front of the small mansion. With a peeved glare at her older brother, she took Ammon's arm and marched out the door, leaving Cerdic to shake his head and follow. The ride out to Greymane Court was a long and silent one; Jeanne staring out the window, stewing in her anger, Ammon fiddling with one of his hidden throwing knives, and Cerdic being lost in his own thoughts. They all started when the carriage halted and cheerful voices were heard outside.

"We're waiting to disembark," Jeanne informed them, sitting back and crossing her arms.

"Jeanne, arms," Cerdic hissed, giving her a pointed look, dropping it when the woman rolled her eyes and let her hands fall into her lap.

"Tosser."

"Language."

"Stop being such a prat Cerdic!" Ammon finally snapped, giving the small knife a final twirl before stashing it where it came from, "This is why we haven't gone with you for years! You always rag on her for being herself and it isn't fair of you to do so!"

Before Cerdic could retort, the carriage jolted to a stop and a rapt knocking came from the door. The door was opened by a young boy in his early teens who offered his hand to Jeanne. Squashing down her anger and annoyance to the deepest parts of her brain, she gave the boy a tight-lipped smile as he helped her out, making the poor lad's face flush deeply.

"H-h-hello Lady Delroy," the boy squeaked, making his face flush more from shame before he bowed deeply to her, "I-I am Alfred, assigned to be y-you and your companions' servant. Whatever y-you need t-tonight you just need tell me and I'll do m-my best to get it done."

The young woman hid her amusement behind a more genuine smile as he fumbled his introduction to her brothers. She took Ammon's arm and followed Alfred as he led the party up the cobblestone path and to the main manor's front doors where they waited in a short line of other courtiers. A few of the nosier women turned and gawked at the trio before gossiping among themselves. Jeanne resisted the urge to roll her eyes as they passed through the exquisite double doors and, after their hats and coats were taken, were shown to their seats in the formal dining hall.

"Pay no mind to the gossipers Jeanne," Cerdic, who was seated to her right about midway down the long table, murmured, "They can only speculate to why you're here."

"Like I care what they have to say," Jeanne huffed, staring down at the many dozens of utensils laid out in a neat row beside her plate.

Cerdic, seeing her slightly panicked expression chuckled and patted her hand comfortingly. "Just go from the outside in and you'll be okay."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Jeanne bit off the rest of her sentence as more courtiers entered and were seated. Another ten minutes rolled past and Jeanne was fidgeting in her seat when the royal family strode in. She and the rest of the table surged to her feet and, when the family were at their designated places, seated when the King did.

Breathing out an inaudible sigh, Jeanne carefully folded her napkin in her lap and patiently waited as the servants served her some sort of foodstuff that she couldn't discern.

 _"Well,"_ she thought sarcastically as she began eating, waiting for the King to start as usual, _"Here's to the good life."_

The meal progressed as it normally would; the men exchanging recent news and stories with each other while the women babbled and gossiped, each sneaking peeks at the object of their discussion. More than once Jeanne felt eyes on her as she daintily ate whatever was on her plate. Hate simmered for those gossipers underneath her ladylike manner, though she concealed it well enough; the only ones that noticed were her two brothers who took turns engaging her in conversation.

After an hour or two of dining and polite conversations, the latter irritating the young woman to no end, the King rose and, with him, the entirety of the hall.

King Greymane took a moment to survey the assembled mass, as small as it was, and gave them a welcoming smile. "I would like to thank you all for attending. It is good to see you all in good health after so long."

Jeanne didn't bother fighting a small smile at his words, feeling the warm glow of respect settle in her breast. Those grey eyes swept the crowd of nobles once again and paused on her for a brief moment before continuing.

"I would like those who has a problem or an issue of importance to discuss it with me in the sitting room. The rest I bid a good and pleasant night."

The assembled nobles all bowed/curtseyed at the dismissal and filed out, save for the few who had words for the king. Cerdic offered his elbow to his sister, who took it with a dark glare. He merely smiled and followed the royal family out, Ammon tagging along behind them.

The three were led to another set of doors nearby and were ushered in by yet another servant. Behind the other nobles were heard getting their proper belongings and being ushered outside to their proper carriages. Before she knew it, the three were seated inside a lush room that put theirs to shame. As she looked around the room she noticed that there were three other nobles seated on similar cushioned armchairs to one side of the flickering fireplace. King Genn, Queen Mia, Prince Liam, and Princess Tess seated themselves on the other side and, after tea was poured and served by the servants, turned their attentions on the nobleman farthest to the left.

"What is your grievance Lord Godfrey?"

The balding man stood and took his monocle and cleaned it with a handkerchief with slow precision as he seemed to mull over his words. Just as slow, he refolded the cloth and replaced it and his monocle on his eye before finally addressing the King.

"This Civil War goes poorly and is taking longer than it should to end," he began, his voice tight with controlled frustration, "We cannot afford to keep dragging it out, my King."

The greying king hummed and gestured Lord Godfrey to continue.

"I propose we have the army flush out the rebels and sympathizers and—"

"Turn the ones that vowed to protect the populace against it," Genn finished, contempt colouring his voice, "I cannot order that Lord Godfrey. I vowed to keep the people safe when I ordered the Wall be built and that holds true now. My decision created enemies of those people who felt that I betrayed the Alliance; betrayed them. I cannot betray the rest by disturbing what peace they have held onto since then."

Godfrey's face remained still, though his lips twitched downward a hair. The other two lords weren't as quick to disguise their displeasure.

"My King, we could end this war within a fortnight! Think of the supplies and lives that can be spared!"

Genn's face remained its mildly pleasant air, though when he spoke next it was heavy with finality.

"Think of the lives I would uproot and destroy if I were to give that order. We would not have to worry about this war because we would have another civil war on our hands. I will not entertain that option and that is all I have to say on that."

The man's face turned stony and he bowed deeply, muttering his excuses as he and the other two lords turned and strode out the doors. Jeanne narrowed her eyes at the way Lord Godfrey excused himself, sensing something out of place with him. A barely concealed sigh grabbed her attention, turning in time to see her king rub a hand down his face. Queen Mia shot her husband a look and placed a supporting hand on his arm, letting him compose herself. He did after a few moments, drawing himself up and focusing weary grey eyes onto the siblings.

"Baron Delroy, I see you tore your sister away from her studies."

With a small grin, Cerdic stood and gestured for Jeanne to do the same. Steeling herself, she did and curtseyed to the family, forcing a smile to lift her lips.

"Yes, I have Sire. This is my sister, Lady Jeanne Delroy."

Knowing that she must behave appropriately, she curtseyed again at the introduction. When she lifted her eyes to the family, she noted that Queen Mia and Princess Tess had matching smiles and that Prince Liam had a warm glint in his eyes.

"Lady Jeanne, how have you been?" Queen Mia asked, warm smile still gracing her face, "We have not seen you since you were sent off to the harvest-witches to train."

Jeanne's smile became genuine as she regarded the elderly queen with fondness. "I have been faring well, thank you, your Majesty. It has been a while since I was last in court. Thank you for inviting me your Majesties."

The King dipped his head in acknowledgement and stood, motioning for Prince Liam to stand with him.

"I introduce my son, Prince Liam Greymane."

Jeanne and Liam locked eyes as she curtseyed once again, each sizing each other up.

"It is a pleasure to be introduced to you formally, Lady Jeanne," he said on a light chuckle, rising from his short bow, "Last I saw you, you were a feisty child dead set on learning swordsmanship."

Jeanne chuckled as she saw Cerdic looking both embarrassed and scandalized at that. "To which you catered to that desire, your Highness. If I recollect correctly, you took the time to teach me a thing or two about that very art."

Liam grinned and, after giving a glance to a very scandalized looking Cerdic, replied, "Yes, I recall that very same thing, Lady Jeanne. You are a natural at it if I say so myself."

Jeanne's smile got wider at both the praise from the Prince and the expression on Cerdic's face. The scandalized man glanced at his golden pocket watch and cleared his throat, getting everyone's attention.

"By your leave, my King?" he asked with a bow to the man, "We must be getting back. My sister is yet to unpack her belongings and she must be very weary from the journey back home."

Jeanne hid her sudden irritation at Cerdic's excuse well as she curtseyed once more for the royal family.

"Very well," the gruff king said, nodding once to the siblings, "I hope to see you again very soon Baron Delroy. Your family has always served me loyally and it is time I provide an adequate repayment for years of dedication."

Cerdic opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by a series of loud and hasty knocks on the sitting room's door. The guards, hidden from view until now, rushed forward and took up positions around the group, hands ready on the pommels of their swords.

"Enter!" King Greymane barked.

The door flew open immediately and a very rumpled and harried looking boy rushed forward only to stop dead at the sight of the armed guards. He visibly gulped and, shaking, glanced at Genn for help.

The king frowned at the boy's state and waved off the guards. "What is your business here boy?"

Still shaking, the messenger boy thrust out a folded and slightly crinkled sheet of parchment at the king. "I… I've got….. news from the… the wall, Sire! It… it is very urgent..! Lieutenant Walden… sent me…. I am the….. the fastest runner."

Frowning, the king gestured for one of the nearest guards to take it, to which the messenger gratefully relinquished it and focused on regaining his breath.

"Avery, get the boy some cool water," Genn ordered, taking the sheet and quickly reading it.

His face remained the same, though a steely glint had entered his grey eyes as he finished the letter and folded it back up. He glanced at the siblings, still standing politely off to the side, and gave them an apologetic grimace.

"I'm afraid," he began, tucking the note away in his belt, "that I cannot let you three leave without an armed escort."

"What? Why?" Jeanne blurted before Cerdic could ask the very same questions, "What happened your Majesty?"

King Greymane's face remained unmovable as he started issuing orders. "I need four guards escorting Baron Delroy's family back to their home. See it done, Avery.

Liam, you will both escort this boy back to the barracks and give Lieutenant Walden the order to lock down the city. You will help direct the citizens to him for an evacuation starting in the Merchant Square."

King Greymane turned back to the siblings and barked, "I need Liam to get to the Barracks as quick as possible. He may ride with you?"

Cerdic, being the 'head' of the family, quickly nodded his consent. That was all King Greymane needed, turning back to his remaining guards with a speed that surprised them. They never got to hear what the king ordered as four heavily armored guards bustled in, making quite the racket. Prince Liam greeted them and escorted the group out the doors, heading for the exit. The Delroy carriage was sitting innocently in front of the building when they strode out into the courtyard, the group quickly clambered in. Liam stayed outside a moment to inform the driver their destination and before they knew it they were off.

Jeanne surveyed the inhabitants of the carriage with a mixture of grim amusement and seriousness. On her side was the messenger boy and, out of necessity, Ammon. Cerdic and the Prince made up the other side, both being of a bulkier build than the other three. The ride was as silent as it was before, save for the click clack of the horses' hooves, but this silence weighed on them like a stifling blanket; as if something was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to They'll Know Me as Joan! I hope you enjoy your reading experience! Don't be afraid to leave a comment or kudos!  
>  I will tell you now that this story won't follow the quest line to the letter but will follow in that general direction. I personally can't stand WoW stories that copy and paste the exact quest text, so I won't subjugate you guys to that. 
> 
> Happy reading guys!
> 
> ~Kat


	2. Bastard Bit Me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Delroy siblings go home to prepare for an evacuation when the worgen invaders make themselves known.

Jeanne suppressed a shiver as she looked out at the dimly lit streets. On a whim she glanced up at the rooftops and stilled when she caught a flash of movement in the darkness. Ammon noticed the change in her attention almost immediately and started scanning the darkened streets himself.

Before they know it the carriage comes to a halt. Prince Liam gave a quick glance out the window before one of the guards opened the door. He gave a look to the messenger and the boy silently hopped out and waited for the Prince to join him.

"Prince Liam," Jeanne started before Liam could shut the carriage again, "What do we need to do?"

The blond prince sighed and glanced up at the dark rooftops before answering, "Send your servants home and tell them to prepare for an evacuation of the city. You three do the same."

He gave a long stare at the elegantly dressed woman in front of him before nodding sharply. Prince Liam then shut the door and sent the carriage on its way. For once in her memory Cerdic did not say anything about the prince's actions, instead reaching out and covered Jeanne's hand with his own, squeezing it lightly. She gave him a small smile at his attempted reassurance, turning her hand to squeeze back. The three sat, tense with anticipation for what was coming and Jeanne mentally ran through a list of supplies she would need.

_"My satchel is a must; it has all my small necessities. My staff and dagger is another must. I need to change into my training clothes when we get home. Food and drink, obviously. I don't think we need any—"_

"What are those?" Ammon asked, jolting Jeanne out of her thoughts. He leaned closer to the glass and squinted at the darkness.

"What are you talking about?" Cerdic asked and Jeanne copied her twin, staring up at the black rooftops and the sky beyond them.

She tensed as she too saw movements from the darkness. She tried to follow one of them but lost it as quickly as she found it.

"Whatever they are," she said slowly, never taking her eyes off the roofs, "They are damned good climbers."

A tense silence fell on them as all three siblings scanned the rooftops, each somber in face of the knowledge of their unknown invader is already here. They all jumped as the carriage jolted to a halt. The driver seemed to be as unnerved as they were when he opened the door for them, scrambling to get back onto his seat as soon as Ammon shut the door behind them. They glanced at the carriage pulling away before hurrying up the pathway and into the townhouse.

Jeanne hurried past Cerdic as he called together his servants to relay Liam's order and into her rooms on the second landing. The first thing she did upon entering was make a beeline to the heavily framed windows and closing the shutters before locking them, sliding an iron poker through the handles for good measure. She spun and snatched her packs from the neatly made bed, flipping the top flap open to expose its contents.

Jeanne grabbed the set of neatly folded clothes sitting on top and set them on the bed, stepping back and roughly snatching the jeweled pins and ribbons from her hair. She shook out her waist length hair and focused on trying to undo the stiff ties trapping her inside the dress.

"Bloody laces!" She growled, abandoning her task after a few tense seconds and plunging her hand back into her pack.

She smirked as she pulled out a worn dagger and flicked the sheath off it. The woman made short work of the ties that bound her and shoved her way out of the dress. She pulled her light chemise off after a moment and grabbed the uppermost garment off the rumpled pile on her bed.

After pulling on her training clothes she turned to the dagger and sheathed it once again, pulling it onto the strip of cloth she used as a belt. Jeanne then plunged her hand into another section of her pack and pulled out a long length of wood along with its belt.

"I'll never understand how this thing fits in there," she muttered to herself, strapping the belt on and sliding her staff into place on her back, adjusting it for easy drawing, "Bloody bag must be enchanted or something."

Mentally shrugging, Jeanne pulled her pack to her and did a quick stock of her supplies.

 _"I'll have to get some food and drink from the kitchens,"_ she thought, attaching it to her 'belt', _"Other than that I'll be okay."_

_BOOM!_

Jeanne jumped and twisted around to find the source of the sound.

_BOOM!_

She saw the shutter shake at the force of the impact. Fighting down her initial panic, she glared at the shutter for a moment, silently daring the would-be intruder to break through. Jeanne heard nothing but frantic scrabbles against the shingles as the invader moved farther to her left.

Huffing, she turned and hastily exited her room, shutting the heavy oak door behind her before a sound made her stop dead in her tracks.

_CRASH!_

"Shite!" she swore, taking off down the hall as she heard something large shuffling around in the room next to hers.

Jeanne heard the door slam open behind her and she took the risk of glancing behind her. A large dark creature was hunkered down on the floor, swinging its great lupine head around to focus on her. Angry yellow eyes met hers and the creature emitted a loud snarl before starting after her.

Without thinking, she plunged into the stream of magic flowing just under her consciousness and threw a hand behind her. A bright white light engulfed the creature and the sound of its pained yelps reached her a second before the stench of singed fur did.

Jeanne didn't have time to revel in her success as she turned the corner and bolted down the steps, almost colliding headfirst into Ammon rushing to her aid.

"GO!" she yelled, shoving him towards the door as she spun at the sound of claws scrabbling towards them.

Jeanne slid into a casting stance and readied another spell, shooting it off as soon as the creature bound into sight. The green energy ball hit him in the head and flung him back down the hall. An audible crack was heard as he hit the wall and she waited for him get back up. Nothing came.

Breathing shakily, she straightened a moment before she felt two sets of hands pull her towards the door.

"Are you out of your bleeding mind Joan?!" Cerdic yelled as he dragged her down the entranceway, "You could've been killed!"

"What the hell was I supposed to do?!" she snarled back, yanking her arm out of his grasp, "Let it maul me?! I was defending myself!"

Cerdic spun on his heel and stalked towards her, frightful scowl on his face.

"That is what we are here for! You should've let us deal with it!"

"Oh for fucks sake!" Jeanne flung her arms up in exasperation. "I am NOT a child! You'd rather have me be killed being a defenseless child rather than acknowledging I am a grown woman perfectly capable of her own defense!"

"Now's not the time for fighting!" Ammon growled, coming between the two before blows could be landed, "We've got to get to safety! Then you two can rip each other's throats out!"

With an angered huff, Jeanne pushed past the two and stalked towards the door. She heard sounds of shouts and fighting a moment before she yanked the door open. She stopped short and gaped at the sight of the city guards in full combat with more of the mysterious creatures that invaded her home.

"What the hell is going on?!" Cerdic yelped, pushing past her and taking a defensive stance, drawing his broadsword.

"No idea," Ammon replied, then pointed towards a figure on a horse across the square, shining guards fighting around him, "But the Prince is here."

Without another word, the siblings dashed towards the Prince, intent on getting answers.

"Prince Liam!" Cerdic shouted as they got near, "What in the blazes is going on?!"

The prince turned in his saddle when he heard him, a look or pure relief on his handsome face.

"Worgen!" He shouted back, tugging on the horse's reigns as the guards around him engaged another invader, "Father warned me that Archmage Arugal's creations had overrun the Headlands! I need you three to kill as many as you can! I also need you to help the other civilians evacuate to the Military District!"

The prince was cut off as another worgen dropped out of nowhere and leapt over his guards at him. Before Jeanne could get a cast off a small knife flew out from behind her and struck the worgen's throat. Jeanne hit the beast a split second after the knife landed, burning as it slumped backwards, already dead.

Liam reigned his horse away from the stinking corpse and gave them a shaky smile of gratitude. "I owe you two my life. Lady Jeanne, evacuate the remaining citizens and kill anything that comes after you. Lord Ammon, assist Miss. Armstead with gathering our remaining supplies. Baron Cerdic, I need you here defending the citizens."

With a nod of understanding, Jeanne gave her brothers a glancing touch of support before scrambling to fulfill her orders. She nearly tripped on the step of the first house before knocking loudly on the door. She had to practically jump back as the door slammed open a second after she knocked, a battered man carrying a small child stumbling out.

"Help me, please!" he begged over the wailing of the child and looking back at the house fearfully as menacing growls were heard from inside.

"Go to the Military District!" Jeanne yelled, taking a casting stance, "The King is there evacuating people!"

She paid him no mind as he bolted down a street, instead concentrating on killing the beast that crashed into her field of view.

 _"Feel my wrath, beast,"_ she thought, launching into her first cast and following it up with her lunar flames, _"You'll not touch my people!"_

She made quick work of the worgen, giving it a brief look over before moving on to the next door. The next few houses she evacuated went along the same lines; knocking, telling the panicked citizens the only information she knew, and often dealing with an enraged worgen. Taking a shaky breath, she glanced down at her latest kill and examined him for anything of interest, kneeling to retrieve a few meager coins from his smoldering trousers and pocketing them.

A snarl behind her was the only warning she got before getting bowled over, landing shoulder first onto the hard cobblestones. Reacting instinctively, she fired off a burst of white arcane energy and rolled onto her feet as soon as she felt the worgen flinch back. Her dagger was in her hand before she knew it though she was now too far away to use it correctly.

The worgen snarled and stretched to its full height, dwarfing the woman with its intimidating bulk. For the first time since getting attacked in her own home she felt a prang of fear settle itself in her heart. The worgen charged her, frightfully agile despite his size, not giving the woman enough time to prepare a cast. She attempted to anyway, throwing her arm out moment too late.

Strong jaws clamped down on her left forearm a split second before her cast landed. Both howled in pain and the worgen jerked back, freeing her arm from his crushing grip.

"Oh no you don't!" she snarled, trying to ignore the sharp burning pain and struck out blindly, completely forgetting about the dagger clenched in her hand.

The dagger sliced cleanly through fur and flesh like a hot knife through butter. The worgen coughed and gagged as he staggered away from the woman, dropping a few yards away from her.

Jeanne let out a shaky breath and lowered her gaze to the dagger, noting the streaming blood dripping from the silver length. She grimly wiped the blade clean on her trousers and sheathed it before turning her attentions on her wounded arm.

"Son-of-a-flea-bitten-mongrel," she hissed, carefully peeling the bloody fabric of her shirt back, "Bastard had one hell of a bite."

Closing her eyes, she called upon the magic in her and focused it on healing her arm. Her right hand glowed a soft green as it took effect and she waved her fingers over the wound. The magic was just enough to staunch the bleeding and faded almost as quickly as it came. She huffed as she inspected the bloody puncture wounds, gently prodding it to see if any blood was still oozing from it.

"I never was the best healer," she mused, using her dagger to cut a strip of cloth from the bottom of her tunic, "At least it's not bleeding anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp.. She's been bitten... How will her siblings take this news? 
> 
> How are you guys liking this now that we've gotten into the action? Like it? Hate it? What needs to improve? What's doing okay?
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> ~Kat


	3. You Want Us to Rescue Who Now??

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeanne and her siblings get sent to King Greymane for further evacuation plans. However, he has a task none of them expected him to set on them.

Jeanne quickly wrapped the strip around her forearm and shook her sleeve back over it. Keeping the dagger in hand, she made her way back into the main square to talk to the prince and to make sure her siblings were still alive. As she stepped out the first thing she noticed was the amount of worgen corpses laying around. The second thing was that the number still on the streets hasn't dropped one bit.

Shoving down a sudden prang of hopelessness, she made a beeline towards the still mounted Liam and his guards, to which Cerdic seemed to have joined with.

"Joan!" Cerdic called, relief and desperation clear in his voice, "Thank the Light! You're okay!"

She bit down the urge to correct him and instead scoffed as she finished off the worgen he was battling with a spell. "Of course I'm alright! It takes more than a few manky worgen to kill me!"

The older man gave her a look as he brushed his hair out of his eyes, smearing gore all over his face. Prince Liam glanced between the two and cleared his throat, drawing their attention.

"It's time for you two to evacuate. You two have served me well and I thank you, truly. Go to the military district with the other civilians and check in with Miss. Armstead. I need you to check on the other evacuees while my guards and I cover their retreat."

"But," Jeanne started, stepping towards the prince but was cut off by a sharp shake of his head.

"That is an order, Lady Jeanne! I will meet up with you and your brothers at a later time. Go!"

Chastised, Jeanne bowed her head for a moment then returned his gaze, stubbornness clear within her emerald ones. She took a casting stance and waved glowing hands at him, letting her magic heal him as best as she possibly could. His posture straightened a bit as his minor injuries closed and gave her a grateful grin.

"You better, dammit," she shot back, fighting a sudden rise of dizziness upon the completion of the spell.

With that, she and Cerdic spun and dashed down the moonlit streets, dodging fighting pairs of guards and worgen as they went. There were a few times that the siblings had to defend themselves or each other from a stray worgen or two.

"Good hit!" Cerdic called from over his shoulder as a bolt of green energy sailed over his shoulder and struck the worgen square in the chest, stunning it long enough for him to deal the killing blow. "Next time not so close to my head!"

"Oh, stop being a prat! It was only a six inches away!" she shot back, struggling to hide the constant dizziness with her normal saucy attitude.

Cerdic gave her a concerned look but mentally shrugged it off, blaming it on weariness. "Just hold on a bit longer, Sister. We're almost there and you'll have a chance to rest."

Jeanne just nodded in agreement; it was best not to let on that she was truly not feeling her best and save her a long infuriating lecture. She and Cerdic found the stairs leading down and descended them. Cerdic greeted the dark haired woman as Jeanne struggled to focus through the fog in her mind.

"Lady Jeanne," Gwen's voice cutting through the fog, "Glad to see you're still standing."

Jeanne forced an affronted look on her face and replied, "You expected me to fall to these mongrels? Not bleeding likely!"

The woman chuckled darkly and shifted her grip on the rifle she carried, "No, I didn't think so. However, there are a hell of a lot of these beasts to cut through, even for you."

Gwen gave the red-head a measured look and continued, "There was someone asking about you. I believe it's that harvest-witch, Celestine; she sounded pretty worried. Best hurry up; we need our best out worgen-smashing after you're done conversing with nature."

Jeanne bit back a nasty reply and simply nodded, moving past the woman as fast as she could without being impolite. She scanned the area and quickly found her master kneeling beside a wounded man, hands glowing a bright green that only a healing spell could produce. She strode over to the witch, who had glanced up hearing footsteps approaching.

"Joan!" she cried, a broad, relieved smile lighting up her weary face, "We are indeed blessed today! I was worried that you wouldn't make it!"

"Well, here I am," Jeanne replied, smiling despite her current condition, "Takes more than a few worgen to down me."

The older woman merely smiled and finished up her current charge, standing and brushing off her robe. Celestine gave the younger woman a look over, a frown replacing her relieved smile.

"You don't feel so good, child," she said after a moment, taking a casting stance and waving glowing hands over the red-head, "Hold still."

Jeanne sighed and let her master do her work, knowing better than to interrupt her when she has her mind made up. Celestine's hands paused when they reached her wounded arm and the witch's brow furrowed as she focused her power to heal that one part.

"You've been bit," she muttered, her face drawing tight with worry, "And it does not want to close."

The older woman stepped back and gave Jeanne a hard stare, making her shift uncomfortably. "Are you feeling well? Anything feel amiss since you've been bitten?"

"I'm—", Jeanne started to lie, but changed her mind last minute at the look her master gave her, "I-I've been rather dizzy, honestly. Nothing I can't handle though."

"I see." Celestine gave her another measuring look and gestured over the gathered wounded and her students still tending to them. "That is the same answer I received from those still conscious when we recovered them. Like your bite, theirs won't close as well. I just hope the wounds won't get infected…"

"Yeah…" Jeanne answered, shaking her head to try and clear out some of the fog collected in there, "Is there anything you need me to do while I'm here?"

Celestine's lips twitched in a smile as she regarded the young woman in front of her, "Well, healing the wounded is out for you; your healing skills are barely passable. I suppose you take that Moonfire spell you recently learned and kill more worgen. Come back when you've culled some."

Jeanne hid a grin and mockingly saluted, rushing past her fellow students and jumping back into the fray in time to save Ammon from getting his neck torn out.

"You have the most impeccable timing Joan," he deadpanned, shoving the smoldering carcass off of him and clambering to his feet.

"I try," she shot back as she knocked another worgen off of a roof with a bolt of magic, "Do try and be more careful this time, dear brother. I won't always be there to save your sorry arse."

"Bitch," Ammon spat, waiting for the worgen to be in range before sticking him in between the eyes with a knife, "That one took me by surprise."

"Suuure it did." Another worgen charged at the twins only to fall flat on his face with two knives in his throat. "You need to teach me how you do that."

"Believe it or not, I can take care of myself." The bright light of lunar fire lit up the area, cooking the entrapped worgen in a flash. "Maybe after we kick these flea-bitten runts out of our city. Cerdic'll have my head, you know."

"Don't care. I can do whatever the hell I want." Another worgen went down in a combination of lunar fire and a slit throat, courtesy of the twins. "Nice shot!"

Ammon grinned darkly as he wiped his blade on the worgen's filthy and tattered trousers. "You too Joan. I just wish Cerd could see past his view of women and see how much you've grown."

Jeanne snorted and took a long draw of lukewarm water from her bag, feeling her magic reserves swell back up. "I doubt he ever will. I've already saved his life several times tonight and he still gives me that stubborn look whenever I bring it up."

Ammon hummed and looked around at the sound of fighting farther back. Spotting a figure in shining armour fighting off a group of worgen alone, he sighed and rolled his shoulders. "Looks like that tosser needs us now. Let's assist him before he gets himself killed."

Jeanne nodded and followed Ammon at a brisk jog, stopping a few yards from the fight to quickly cast as Ammon charged in, knives flying.

"Ammon! Joan!" Cerdic gasped as he parried a slash of worgen claws with his sword, "So glad to see you! Got ambushed when I went to pull this bugger."

"We can see that!" Jeanne sniped, shooting a ball of energy at that particular worgen, "You're supposed to be the warrior! You should know how to pull by now!"

"Stuff it," Cerdic shot back, cleaving the head off of the worgen with a quick flash of silver, "You shouldn't even be out here!"

"Both of you stuff it!" Ammon growled, burying a dagger into his worgen's chest and slicing through his neck with the other hand, "Both you wankers are making my head pound!"

"Arse!" Jeanne glared at him and shot him healing spell, taking her twin by surprise. "Better?"

"Much. Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Jeanne sighed in relief as she dropped her casting stance and surveyed the bloody mess they've made. "Whelp, I do believe this will satisfy Celestine. You tossers coming?"

Two choruses of 'yeah' were heard as she spun on her heel, stumbling slightly as her dizziness returned with a vengeance.

"You okay?" She heard Ammon ask quietly at her elbow, startling her.

She entertained the thought of lying to him for a second or two before dismissing it and replying, "Got bit a little while back. Celestine said that it won't heal for some reason."

A furrowed brow was the only answer she got as the three came up on the group of trainers. Faces she didn't recognize looked up at her as she strode past the group of wounded and hailed Celestine. "Master, I've returned."

Celestine gave the young woman a look over and nodded, wrinkling her nose slightly. "I see that. You've killed more than your fair share I would think."

Jeanne glanced down at herself and grimaced at the fresh blood soaking into her clothes. "Can't be helped. It's dirty work trying to push back this invasion."

"Yes, yes it is." Celestine sighed and glanced up at the large full moon hanging above their heads, "It's time for us to join the survivors, I'd think. I've heard some of the wounded mention that King Greymane is just south of here with his royal guard. We should go and seek safety in numbers."

Jeanne saluted and made to obey before catching sight of the many wounded still on the ground. She turned back to the older woman with the question on her lips before getting turned away.

"There's more than enough hands to transport them. Go and aid the King. We will catch up."

Hesitating a moment more, Jeanne then nodded and joined her brothers, who were waiting for her to be dismissed before moving ahead. She and her brothers moved at a steady pace, keeping a sharp eye out for any attacking worgen. Amazingly, they encountered no resistance the entire way and found themselves back in the King's presence.

"Baron Delroy," the king greeted with a grim nod of his head, ignoring Lord Godfrey's disbelieving huff, "I see you and your siblings have survived. Light bless us all."

"We are blessed to have survived intact," Cerdic agreed, bowing low to the King and giving Lord Godfrey a shorter bow, "How may we be of service to you?"

The king grew silent and turned towards the hulking stone building a few yards in front of them. He watched the guards fight the surrounding worgen for a few moments before nodding sharply and turning back to the siblings.

"I need you three to rescue Lord Darius Crowley from the prison."

"Crowley?" Cerdic asked, slightly aghast, "Why? He's been locked up for a reason!"

"I have to share the Baron's sentiments, Sire," Lord Godfrey muttered, distaste clear in his voice.

King Greymane ignored him and continued, "I understand your sentiment Cerdic, trust me. Regardless... Crowley is exactly the type of person we need now more than ever. Enter Stoneward Prison and ask Captain Broderick about Crowley's whereabouts. I can't trust my own men not to rescue him without some kind of revenge for the suffering he's— _we've_ —caused."

Cerdic exhaled as he mulled it over, glancing at the younger two for any kind of input. Jeanne pursed her lips and nodded her assent, Ammon following shortly after.

"We'll do it. For the sake of Gilneas," Cerdic intoned solemnly, nodding his head as he spoke.

"Thank you," King Greymane stated, giving them a nod of appreciation, "Whenever you're ready, Baron Delroy."

Before Cerdic had the chance to turn and ask the other two if they were ready, Lord Godfrey cleared his throat to get their attention.

Godfrey gave the king a dubious look before turning to them fully, his sneer deepening at the sight of the young nobles.

"I couldn't care less if King Greymane wants you three to risk your lives for a traitor. Do me a favor and kill these cursed fleabags while you're out there. Do something useful for once."

Jeanne opened her mouth to tell the Lord where to shove his request before being cut off by Cerdic. "Of course we will. Come Jeanne. Ammon."


	4. He Turned Into One of Them...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeanne gets more and more ill as the siblings help Crowley fight to save one of his men. Something happens to Cerdic when he gets sent ahead that will change his life forever.

Giving the pompous man a heated glare, she followed her brothers and, out of pure spite, pulled a worgen off a guard close by. It was only after she heard the man swear loudly and back his horse up did she kill it, leaving the corpse to foul up the air. She didn't glance back, instead jogging to catch up with her siblings who had engaged another worgen close by. The three made short work of him and moved onto the next, moving closer to the prison's side entrance with every worgen.

"In there!" Ammon yelled, pointing to the door with his offhand where a guard was battling furiously with a pair of worgen.

Jeanne sighed and pulled one of them off of the guard, who grunted in thanks, and let her siblings do most of the work killing it; her dizziness had escalated to a pounding headache accompanied by subtle tremors running up and down her body and a sharp ache in her left forearm.

The guard saluted the three when his opponent finally fell to him and ran off to help his comrade, leaving the door clear to them. Cerdic led the way, gesturing for them to follow with a gauntleted hand.

"Captain Broderick," Cerdic greeted, stopping in front of the man crouched at the bottom of the winding staircase, "King Greymane sent us to speak with you. He wants us to free Lord Crowley."

"He wants what now?" The man yelped, giving them a wide-eyed stare, "You've all gone mad! Bonkers!"

"Be as it may, Captain, it's the king's orders."

The man shook his head and gestured up the wooden stairs. "If you three want to risk your lives for that traitor, then fine by me. He's holed up upstairs with his men, probably plotting against the king as we speak."

"Thank you," Cerdic intoned, giving the man a short bow before leading the charge upstairs.

Jeanne had a harder time keeping up, the way the stairs turned making her head spin. She vaguely heard Cerdic and Ammon engage a pair of worgen and she automatically started casting when she caught up. She managed to finish Ammon's off when Cerdic had them moving again, this time over the stone roof of the prison. Ammon slowed a bit to jog beside her, silently offering his support should she need it. She acknowledged it with a small smile and paused to gulp down some water. The influx of magic helped clear her head some and she nodded at her twin to keep going. She heard Cerdic hail the former prisoner from up ahead and she moved quicker to catch up and eager to join the excitement.

"…Cerdic Delroy," She heard Crowley state slowly, as if he couldn't quite identify the young man, "Anthony's boy, right?"

Cerdic grinned and bowed slightly, acknowledging the man's answer. "Indeed. I am his eldest. May I introduce my brother, Lord Ammon, and my dear sister, Lady Jeanne."

Both siblings nodded in greeting to which Crowley returned them. Jeanne glanced at the men behind him and dimly recognized one of them to be Tobias Mistmantle. Crowley noticed her gaze and jerked his chin to catch her attention.

"One of those mangy fleabags got Dempsey real good while we were escaping. We cannot move him until we stabilize his bleeding. Speaking of which, can you heal, Lady Jeanne?"

Jeanne paused to consider his question before shrugging a shoulder. "Not very well; I only know the bare minimum. I'll be more useful to you as a defender than a healer."

Crowley acknowledged this with a sharp nod and continued hurriedly, "Fine. Give us a hand in holding back these mongrels; we've only gotten a short reprieve. A couple of minutes is all we need!"

The three nodded in agreement and moved to their respective positions around the small group; Ammon and Cerdic standing in line with Crowley while Jeanne took a more guarded position closer to the fallen Dempsey. Jeanne took another small sip of her water to help clear her mind as faint snuffling and snarls were heard from nearby.

"Get ready," Crowley warned, taking up a combat stance, "They come."

No sooner than he said that did the sounds silence altogether, sending a shiver down the defenders' spines. Jeanne watched in horror as the worgen practically flew over the side of the prison wall and charge towards them. Without missing a beat, Ammon embedded a throwing knife into the skull of the front most worgen. With a small smile at her twin's display of skill, Jeanne hit the next one with a pillar of lunar flames and let Cerdic finish that one off with a clean stroke.

The next few minutes were filled with shouts and the sounds of spells casting as the defenders danced the macabre dance of death with the worgen. Though tired from an earlier onslaught and armed with nothing more than his fists, Crowley held his own as wave after wave of worgen crashed against them.

Jeanne, on the other hand, was showing the true extent of her exhaustion and illness. Her casting became sloppier and less focused and she was sometimes missing the worgen entirely. Crowley became the first to realize the young woman's exhaustion and pointed it out to the eldest Delroy.

"Your lass isn't looking so good!" He yelled over the din, "We can't afford to pull her out until Dempsey's okay!"

"Understood," Cerdic yelled back, cleaving his current opponent in half and turned in Jeanne's direction to yell, "Joan, help heal Dempsey! We've got it just fine up here!"

He yelped in surprise as a pillar of white light engulfed a worgen sneaking up on him from his left, making the beast yowl in pain and stagger to one side.

"You do… realize… that healing… takes more out of… me than… this does… right?" Jeanne answered in between pants, shooting off a green ball of energy to finish off that worgen before giving Cerdic a look, "Besides… you need… all the help… you can get…"unds of spells casting as the defenders danced the macabre dance of death

Cerdic gave her a fierce frown and opened his mouth to correct her before realizing that the night had gone silent. The defenders looked around, expecting more to fly over the wall at any moment. After a few tense seconds, Crowley was the first to drop his stance as he rushed over to where the fallen man was and checked on his condition. Relief bled over the man's face when he saw that the bleeding had stopped and Dempsey was starting to stir.

"Light be blessed," Crowley muttered, giving the fallen man a pat on the shoulder and turning to the siblings, "You have my thanks. You three have helped a good man survive another day."

Cerdic strode forward and held out his hand for a terse handshake, which Crowley obliged in after a moment. "We need all the man power we can get. You need any assistance in getting Dempsey back down?"

Crowley gave the group a look over, eyes lingering on an exhausted Jeanne leaning on Ammon's shoulder for support, before giving his answer, "Cerdic, go on ahead and tell the King of our success and that we're coming down with wounded. Also tell him that my arsenals is at his disposal in Josiah's cellar."

Cerdic saluted and made to go fulfill his request before catching sight of his sister. His brows drew together as a worried frown slipped onto his lips.

Ammon, seeing his older brother's look, waved him off while beginning to help Jeanne start for the stairs, "Go. She's just exhausted from all of today's events; I'll see to it that she gets some rest."

After a moment's hesitation, Cerdic nodded and jogged back down the prison roof, seemingly intent on his task. Ammon sighed and braced himself as Jeanne stumbled slightly, giving her a concerned look. Crowley stared at the siblings for a moment before slinging Dempsey's arm around his neck and mimicked the twins in helping him walk.

"When we get back to the King we are going to sit you down and try and get something in your stomach," Ammon said into the labored silence, a little taken aback when Jeanne nodded dimly.

"'M cold, Ammy," she mumbled and Ammon had to catch his surprised stumble before he dropped both of them down the winding stairs.

"You haven't called me that in years," Ammon whispered to himself, lifting a hand to feel his sister's forehead, "By the Light! You're burning up!"

"'M cold." Jeanne insisted irritably, giving Ammon a peeved glare, "An' I hurt. Like a herd of stags hit me."

Ammon took in this information silently and watched as she unconsciously favored her left arm.

"Let me see that," he demanded when they got to the bottom of the stairs and out of view of Crowley's party behind them.

"See what?"

"Your arm, stupid." Quick as a striking snake, Ammon seized her left wrist and tore her sleeve up her arm to reveal her makeshift bandage.

He gave her a quick glare to shut her protests up before they were even voiced and started unwinding the bandage, mindful of the sounds of the stairs creaking above them. He gasped in horror as he finally got to the root of the problem and whipped his gaze to meet hers.

"You said you got this a few hours ago!" he hissed in a mixture of fury and horror, winding the bandage back up as the sound of unsteady footsteps got closer.

"I did! When we were evacuating the civilians!"

"Then how is it _this_ infected?! At the most it should only be at the early stages!"

"I don't freakin' know!"

Ammon snorted disbelievingly and managed to pull her sleeve over her wound again before Crowley's group staggered down the stairs. The large man gave them a confused stare and Ammon made a drinking motion. Understanding washed over his face and he nodded, pausing long enough for the twins to get a long drink out of a water skin and shuffle out the door before moving with them towards the King.

King Greymane's face was equal parts relieved and concerned as the small group shuffled to a stop in front of his horse. Ammon immediately set Jeanne down near the royal guards and rummaged in his pack for some kind of food. He sighed in relief as his hand grasped a heel of bread and quickly handed it to his sister.

"Eat." Ammon glared at the woman until she gave in with a grumble, tearing small chunks off with her teeth.

"Is she alright?" King Greymane demanded from atop his horse.

Ammon hesitated for a split second before looking up at his king and nodding. "She's tired from today. She has not had a chance to rest since she set out with Celestine of the Harvest early this morning."

"Now is a good time as any," King Greymane replied, giving the two a nod, "I sent your brother out to speak with Josiah Avery and requisition that artillery. He should be back soo—"

A loud gunshot rent the air from nearby. Ammon and Jeanne bolted to their feet and rushed towards where they think it originated. It didn't take them long to find the cellar in question; the heavy wooden doors were swung wide open and snarling mastiffs were heard from inside.

"Cerdic!" Jeanne gasped as she practically tripped down the stairs and into a raven-haired woman in her haste to get to him.

"Here, Sister," she heard him call, his voice strained with pain, and she turned to see him leaning against the stone wall cradling his right shoulder.

"What happened?" Jeanne heard Ammon ask as she shuffled over to her older brother and gently began to peel layers of cloth away.

"Cerdic here was being mauled by… Josiah… when I came down. It is fortunate that I was sent down here to oversee the removal of the artillery."

"Josiah..?" Ammon asked and Jeanne tore her eyes away from her task to glance around and found a dead worgen wearing Gilnean clothes.

"Bloody hell," Jeanne muttered, suppressing the urge to vomit as she stared at him, "He turned into one of them…"

She gulped and tuned back to her task, glancing up at Cerdic to see him staring back at her, fear etched deep into his forest eyes. Mutual understanding passed between them and she, lips pressed in a thin line, pressed her palm to the bloody bite and summoned her magic to heal as best she could. Cerdic sighed softly as the bleeding subsided and started as Jeanne staggered to the side and fell to her knees.

"Joan!" Cerdic kneeled to try and aid her but jumped back as a spray of vomit hit the flagstones. The young woman heaved a few more times before shakily wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

"Cerd," she called softly after she tried and failed to stand on her own, "Help me up."

He gently scooped her up, ignoring his protesting shoulder, and gently carried her up and out of the cellar. He set her down against the wall right to the side of it and brushed her sweat-soaked bangs out of her face.

"Is she alright?" a voice asked from behind him and Cerdic half turned towards the speaker.

"Lady Lorna Crowley," he greeted before glancing at Jeanne resting against the building, "I don't know what's wrong with her. She seemed fine when she arrived earlier."

"I'm _fine_ ," Jeanne insisted irritably, glaring at the older man with all the strength she could muster, "Just tired."

"Bollocks," Cerdic shot back, worry making his words sharp, "Tell me what's really wrong with you."

Jeanne glared at him for another moment before ignoring his request completely and turning her attention to Lorna. "Where's Ammon?"

Cerdic made an exasperated sound as Lorna glanced towards the sound of a battle close by. "I sent him to root out the worgen hiding in the streets. Apparently, some of them know how to blend into the shadows."

_"Wonderful."_ Jeanne grunted as she shifted, leaning her head back against the filthy bricks. "Cerd, could you get me something light? Cheese… anything..."

"I don't have any food on me…"

"I do." Lorna dug her hand in a small pouch on her hip and tossed a chunk of yellow cheese at Cerdic. "Lord Delroy, mind helping me round up some people to help position the cannons?"

Cerdic glanced down at his sister who just waved at him dismissively. "Go on, you bloody git. It's not like I can move very far very quickly."

"Right…" He gave her a last concerned look before bouncing up and headed around the corner, presumably towards the King and his guardsmen.


	5. Why Are You All So..... Small?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The siblings have successfully helped evacuate Gilneas City and all that needs to be done is for them to evacuate... Not everything goes to plan and their lives are changed forever.

Jeanne visibly sagged against the building once he was out of sight, nibbling slowly on her cheese. Lorna stared at the redhead for a moment or two before shaking her head and moving back into the cellar. Jeanne heard grunting and the sound of something large sliding across the ground before she shut the noise out as her nausea threatened to come back.

The redhead perked up as she heard the sound of footsteps accompanied by the soft clicking of four feet nearby. Before she could raise her voice to greet her twin, she heard the mastiff snarl and the scrabbling of claws. A pained yelp came right after and the sounds of a battle between worgen and mastiff commenced, only ending when a knife embedded itself into its neck with a wet _thud_.

“Oh, where, oh, where did those worgen go?” Jeanne heard Ammon sing in the silence after the kill. “Worgen, worgen, worgen, _oh!_ ”

Jeanne, if she had been in a better mood and wasn’t sick as a dog, would’ve laughed at the childish quality to the tone. Instead, she sighed and concentrated on not vomiting at the stench of freshly spilled blood as he came around the corner, just as bloody as the mastiff beside him.

“Joan,” he greeted, copper brows furrowing in concern, “Why are you out here?”

“Cerdic told me to stay put,” she replied, struggling to sit up now that she heard many pairs of footsteps coming their way.

Ammon’s frown deepened as he gave her a look over before heading downstairs with the mastiff, knowing how stubborn his twin was when it came to her welfare. Jeanne kept her composure as what looked like half the royal guard, plus Cerdic, jogged up and rushed downstairs, where she heard Lorna start issuing orders to them. Cerdic stopped beside her and knelt to her level to speak to her better.

“You were bit, weren’t you?” he asked bluntly, watching her reaction through narrowed forest green eyes.

“What makes you think that?” Jeanne challenged, setting her face into a mask of defiance.

“Because I am starting to feel ill. You were perfectly fine during court and you only stated showing illness after we evacuated the citizens.”

She held his gaze in defiance for a moment longer before breaking it and sighing in defeat. “Fine. I got bit when one snuck up on me. Happy?”

Cerdic sighed and shook his head, standing when the sounds of hooves reached their ears. He got one glimpse of Lord Godfrey riding towards them looking disheveled and jogged towards him.

“It the King alright?”

Lord Godfrey gestured behind him and said, “See for yourself.”

Cerdic seemed unfazed by the older man’s blatant disrespect as he dashed back down the alley towards the King. Lord Godfrey sniffed disdainfully and continued on his way, stopping on the other side of the cellar. Jeanne could feel his gaze focused on her as she sat eating the last of her cheese.

“Why are you just sitting there? Are you too weak to do anything useful?” Godfrey barked, condensation clear in his tone.

“I am resting for a moment,” Jeanne said, forcing her tone to be somewhat civil.

She heard the man scoff and mutter something about “the Delroy line had always been spineless cowards” as he turned away. Before Jeanne knew it she was on her feet in fury and stalking up to the noble.

“You sit here all high and mighty on your bleeding horse and you _dare_ look down upon Gilneas’s defenders,” she snarled, jabbing an accusing finger towards the man, “My brothers and I have been working tirelessly to defend the populace! We have bled for our people! How dare you call my family a bunch of spineless cowards when you look like you just stepped out of your bloody mansion! What have you done to defend Gilneas?!”

“How _dare_ —“

“Yes, I _dare_ to insult you, you manky duffer!”

“Jeanne!” Ammon growled, grabbing the woman and dragging her away from the outraged noble, “What in the blazes are you doing?!”

“Telling him just where he can shove that bloody sword of his, that’s what!”

“You looked like you were going to do more than that!”

“I wasn’t going to _attack_ him!”

“Sure looked like it! You need to learn to control your temper!”

Jeanne opened her mouth to retort but was interrupted by a shrill whinny. The twins turned to see Cerdic and another older man swing off what looked like King Greymane’s horse and hurry towards them.

As soon as the two made it to Godfrey, the pompous noble swung his horse around to face the hastily built barricade and shout, “We've got Aranas! Fire at will!”

The deafening _BOOM_ of cannons going off all at once answered him and the shrieks of worgen dying met their ears. Jeanne resisted the urge to cover her ears at the next volley and instead turned to listen Godfrey instruct Cerdic on something.

“—fall back to Greymane Court to the west, if that's the case. It's the last place we can hold out without being trapped like fish in a barrel.”

“Understood,” Cerdic said, nodding before moving away, gesturing for them to follow.

Jeanne did her best to walk on her own and promptly tripped over her own feet as soon as they turned the corner. Ammon, knowing her need to not appear weak, stuck close by her and caught her before she hit the ground.

“You and your bloody pride,” he grumbled, slinging one of her arms around his neck so they could shuffle at a decent pace, “It’s going to kill you one of these days.”

An exhausted chuckle was her answer as she barely managed the pace he set for her. Cerdic finally noticed them lagging behind and returned to help support his sister.

They managed to cross over the bridge into Greymane Court in a decent time. Jeanne lifted her head and a faint amused smile lifted her lips.

“Weren’t we… just here?” she asked as they neared the blockade at the end of the street.

“Yeah… Yeah we were,” Ammon answered.

“Look, both the King and Prince are here.” Cerdic said, pointing towards the end of the street, “Looks like Crowley is, too.”

“Oh goodie,” Jeanne said sarcastically, “More people… to see that… I am weak…”

“Belt it,” Ammon growled, “Everyone gets ill. They will not think any less of you just because you are ill!”

Jeanne made a face but didn’t comment any further. The three siblings labored in silence for a few more minutes before they were identified by Crowley’s booming voice.

“Delroy! Good to see you three made it!”

“Good to see you did too, Lord Crowley!” Cerdic called back after a moment.

The large form of Darius Crowley came lumbering out of the fog, relief shining in his remaining eye.

“How’s your lass? Last time I saw her she wasn’t looking too goo—“

Crowley stopped at the sight of the woman, leaning heavily on her brother and pale as a corpse. Concern flooded his features before he hid it under a guise of calm.

“She needs healing,” the older man stated, turning to gesture at a line of people encircling the Royal family, “There’s a priest that is healing the wounded. Take her there.”

Ammon hesitated but nodded and started to guide Jeanne towards the line of people. They didn’t make it far without being accosted by a worried Celestine and Liam, both of whom made Jeanne sit against one of the low walls.

“What in the hell happened to you Jeanne?” Liam asked, squatting to be closer to her level and gently brushing her sweat-soaked bangs back.

“I’m _fine_ , Liam,” Jeanne huffed in exasperation, rolling her eyes in what she hoped to be an annoyed manner, “I’m just a bit ill.”

The looks on both Celestine and Liam’s faces showed that they weren’t convinced as her master bent to run glowing hands over the woman.

“Liam,” King Greymane called, tearing the young man’s attention from the sick woman in front of him, “You need to be part of this decision.”

Liam sighed and stood, giving Jeanne a last long look before walking across the courtyard to where his father, Lord Crowley, and Cerdic were standing. Jeanne relaxed subtly as the young Prince left.

_I don’t have the heart to tell him the truth… Light help me if he finds out the other way…_

“If we can make it past the gates into Duskhaven we'll be safe. The eastern mountains are virtually impassable,” King Greymane said, his words echoing over the gathered group.

There was a pause and then Lord Crowley spoke up. “We need to keep the worgen's attention in the city, Genn. It's the only shot we have for the survivors to make it to Duskhaven.”

Jeanne glanced over to the gathered group, noting the way Liam held himself as he took a half step forward. “I'll stay behind with the Royal Guard, father. It is my duty to Gilneas.”

There was a disbelieving snort and Lord Crowley shook his head grimly. He turned to the Prince and gave him a cross look before saying, “Not a chance, boy. Gilneas is going to need its king's undivided attention. Can't have your father wondering whether his child is alive or not.”

Liam flushed in both embarrassment and anger at his words, though he managed to keep his thoughts to himself. Lord Crowley regarded him for a moment longer before turning back to King Greymane.  

“My men and I will hole up inside the Light's Dawn Cathedral. I've already given the order and the cannons are on their way. Lead our people well, Genn.”

At the last, Crowley reached out as if intending to give the King a handshake. After a moment Genn reached out and completed it, a grim sort of amusement flitting on his aged face.

“We were fools to take up arms against each other, Darius. The worgen would've never stood a chance.”

Crowley took that in silence, turning to the silent Cerdic next to him and asked gruffly, “Are you riding with my men and I, Delroy? Or are you going to evacuate with the citizens?”

Cerdic’s eyes immediately found Jeanne’s and they shared a long look. Cerdic was the first to break it, turning to Crowley and giving him a firm nod. “It will be my honour to ride with you.”

_“What?!”_ Jeanne and Ammon both shouted at the same time. Celestine put a hand on Jeanne’s shoulder and forcefully held her there as she struggled to stand.

“You can’t just leave!” Ammon barked, abandoning his post by Jeanne to stalk up to their older brother, “You’ll _die_ out there! Take us along and all three of us can take them!”

“Ammon, Joan is in no condition to be fighting right now.” Cerdic gave Ammon a hard, stern look. “One of us needs to be with her to see her to safety. You’ve always been there for her and I need you to continue doing so. If I… die… then it will be in an honourable way; a way that Father would be proud of.”

“You bloody _wanker_!” Jeanne snarled, still fighting Celestine’s hold on her, “You don’t need to _die_ for Papa to be proud of you, dammit! Your _family_ needs you!”

To her dismay Cerdic shook his head and set his jaw in a stubbornness she recognized. “Gilneas needs me more. I’m sorry Joanie, but I must do this.”

Cerdic gave her one last look before hopping on the horse behind Crowley. It took every ounce of strength Jeanne had left to finally shake Celestine’s hold and stagger to her feet only to watch Cerdic and Crowley ride off with unlit torches in hand.

“Come,” Celestine said the moment the worgen started yowling in pain and anger, “We’re some of the last to leave.”

Jeanne clenched her teeth but let Celestine lead her towards the assembled group. The acrid scent of angry worgen washed over the group and Jeanne froze as her head swam from the smell. Unbearable pain dropped her to her knees; her entire body felt like someone was snapping her bones and tearing muscles into a foreign shape.

_Light make it stop! Makeitstopmakeitstopmakeit—_

 “By the Light! She’s changing!”

A shout rang in her ears and she recoiled from the sound instinctively.

_Ican’ttakeitanymoreMAKEITSTOP!_

Pain abated for a moment before it was replaced by the foreign feeling of pure hate and a deep, primal _hunger_. Jeanne then straightened to her full height, a canine snarl rumbling from deep inside her throat.

_Why are you all so… small?_

Burning pain bloomed in her shoulder a split second later and she whipped her head around to focus on a red-head _-I know you, why can’t I remember?-_ as he gaped up at her in pure horror.

“Joan! _Please_ don’t make me have to do something I’ll regret…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear gods this chapter was a pain in the arse... I swear I rewrote this at least five bloody times and I'm still not completely satisfied with it... Oh well..
> 
> Jeanne has been turned and we all know what happens at the Cathedral with Crowley... So that leaves only one of the three siblings not afflicted.. We'll see what happens with Ammon next chapter.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> ~Kat


	6. Searching For Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few months pass after the Night of Affliction and Ammon is searching for his lost siblings. He comes across a pair that could very well be them.

Thick snowflakes fell from the steely grey sky, not uncommon for Gilneas around this time of year. While the snowfall generally drove most of the populace indoors to sit around the warmth the fire gave, this year was an exception for many.

Ammon Delroy scowled up at the steely sky and willed it to stop dropping its frozen load upon them. The sky seemed to mock him and continued to produce the frozen flakes that could halt their operation for days, if not weeks.

"Pity," A voice drawled mockingly from beside the young rogue, "Looks like the hunt's off until this lot clears up."

"Belt it," Ammon snapped, pivoting on his heel to face the older man, who only gave him an amused stare. "When can we have the dogs ready to go?"

"I ain't taking my dogs out there in this weather!"

"I'll increase your pay."

"No amount of gold you have in yer bank will make me sacrifice my do—"

"You'll get paid double plus the worth of every dog you lose."

"… You drive a hard bargain Delroy."

Ammon glared at the older man and crossed his arms, his scowl deepening. "Take it or leave it Damion."

The man ran a calloused hand through his raven hair and frowned as he made calculations in his head. After another moment or two Damion grimaced and reluctantly offered his hand to the younger man.

"You've got yourself a deal."

Ammon took it and reached into his pack for a brief second. The sound of jingling coins broke the heavy silence as Ammon pulled a large sack out of it and tossed it at the hunter. "Half of what I'll owe you, as promised."

Damion briefly peeked into the sack before whisking it away like it never existed. "Yer by far the most honest thief I've ever encountered, Lord Delroy. They'll be ready to go on the morrow."

* * *

Weeks have passed and there was very little to show for their efforts. The group of hunters plus Ammon checked the traps early every morning and, while there was often a small animal caught, which often became breakfast, the worgen they set out for was never in there. Oh, sure, they caught others foolish enough to get trapped and always took them back to Keel Harbor for further transport to Duskhaven, where the Cure is being given out.

One of Damion's men, a brawny sort called Ramond, threw a stack of parchment on the wooden table which Ammon and Damion were currently lounging at. "Got reports of a pair stealing livestock in the Northern Headlands."

"Really?" Damion sat up and released a puff of smoke from around his pipe. He pulled the topmost parchment towards him and skimmed the report written. "A male and a female. Think they're a breeding pair?"

"Could be."

Ammon slid his throwing knife back in its sheath and pulled the report to him to read for himself. His constant frown deepened when he read the descriptions of the two beasts in question.

_Furious emerald eyes, an exact copy of his eyes, focused on him for a split second before the beast lunged at him. With a roar, King Greymane pushed him out of the way at the very last second and took the bite himself. The bear of a man grappled with the beast that once was his sister for a moment or two before bringing the pommel of his sword on her skull, hard. The beast staggered back, dazed, before shaking her head and, in a flash of silver and white coat, darted away in a random direction._

"Delroy!" Ammon jerked out of the memory and looked up to find both Damion and Ramond staring at him. "You think we should go after this pair?"

"I do."

Damion nodded as if has expecting the answer and turned to Ramond. "Get the dogs and men ready to leave in the morn."

Ammon tuned out the rest of the conversation as he reread the report, a trickle of anticipation and hope welling up in his heart.

_Two worgen stealing livestock in the Northern Headlands, near coast. One male; big, bulky, hazel colouring, green eyes. Other female; slender, fast, silver coat, long 'mane', green eyes._

_If that's you Jeanne,_  Ammon thought, folding the parchment and slipping it into his pocket,  _I'm coming for you. I'll have you back, no matter what form you have._

* * *

A line of horses cut through the deep snows of the Northern Headlands. Teams of well-bred Gilnean mastiffs trailed beside the horses and were tied to their human handlers sitting deeply in their saddles. Ammon occupied the second position in the line of six and was the only one that had no dogs to handle.

The sparse forest eventually gave way to rocky crags dotted with the occasional grouping of trees. Damion in the lead signaled for them to stop and to fan out, in which the team did so immediately.

"We are in our target's territory," he told them, "We move with the utmost care; these two are known for working together with a human-like intelligence. Split into pairs and set out as many traps you can before dark. Meet back here."

The group nodded as one and they splintered off, each taking a general direction. Ammon sidled up to Damion, a slightly uneasy look on his fair face.

"One of them is watching us."

Damion nodded, a grimace on his chapped lips.

"I feel it too. I have a feeling we're in for the fight of our lives."

* * *

The female worgen snorted from the top of the hill she was crouched on. She had watched the hunter team split into smaller teams to, presumably, set up more traps.

Fools. The lot of them. Did they  _really_  think she had no more intelligence than a sheep?

The female growled under her breath at the thought and stayed crouched for a moment longer before loping gracefully in the opposite direction, towards the coast. When she heard the crashing of waves on the rocks below she slowed and trotted parallel to it, intent on finding her den and curling up to take a nap.

She sniffed the air warily when she picked up another scent besides her own and snarled softly in annoyance; will He  _ever_  leave her alone?

"You here why?" she barked out when she poked her head into her den hidden underneath the roots of a lone pine tree.

The male snorted and shuffled around to make room for her to wiggle inside. With a soft snort, she squirmed inside her den and made herself as comfortable she could get on her horse blanket.

"Too cold. You be warmer this way."

The female snorted and bared her fangs at him, showing her annoyance. "You have den. Go sleep there."

"No. More snow soon. You get cold"

Growling, she shook her long mane and settled down to sleep. The male huffed in triumph and curled himself around her silvery body. A short snarl was all the female responded with as they both slipped into sleep.

She woke sometime later when the air was heavy with freshly fallen snow. Snuffling softly at it, she was suddenly thankful for her denmate's presence as freezing air hit her nose. She lowered her head back down and tried to slumber again. She opened annoyed emerald eyes moments later when she was denied that luxury and she nipped at her denmate's haunch to rouse him. He jerked awake with a soft yelp and he eyed her with sleepy irritation.

"Up. I hungry."

The hazel furred male growled and stubbornly stayed where he was. "Sleep. We hunt when light out."

A snarl and a sharper nip was her answer and he huffed out an exasperated sigh before slowly crawling out of the den. She followed, wiggling out of the hole much quicker than he. When they both were out she leaned back on her haunches and waved glowing claws at the tree roots. The roots, responding to her magic, slithered over the entrance of her den, effectively hiding it.

She examined her handiwork and snorted in approval. The hazel male snuffled at the air and, after getting his denmate's attention, lumbered off in the direction of prey.

* * *

Ammon was woken by the sounds of a panicked and dying stag echoing over the land. He was on his feet moments after, pulling on his heavy coat and his multitude of throwing knives on his person. The worgen were active and the potential for their capture was high.

Damion and the others were already saddling up by the time he strode out of his tent. The mastiffs were bright-eyed and impatient on the ends of their leashes, many of them sniffing the air and growling in anticipation of a hunt. Ammon had his cob saddled in record time and before he knew it he was following along at a trot towards the sounds.

Damion, after several terse minutes of riding, started quietly issuing commands among the men.

"Alright. You tossers know th' drill. We ride out abou' ten yards from each other and sneak up on 'em. Let yer pups loose and let 'em distract the targets as we get close 'nough to let the dogs handle 'em. Delroy, Ashton, you two get some of yer poisoned knives in 'em and we'll tire 'em till they drop."

Knowing his role well, Ammon nodded and pulled out a small leather sack from a saddlebag. He tied one end of it to the saddle horn and reigned his cob out to the desired distance, waiting for Damion to give the signal to proceed. He did and the team cautiously moved towards the sound of ripping flesh; all signs of a hunt gone well. They were farther away then they would've liked when the breeze changed direction on them and moved downwind, taking their scents right to them. A weighty snarl was all they needed before Damion whistled and five pairs of young mastiffs were cut loose, all of them baying their joy to the heavens.

Ammon counted ten and five seconds before the sound of battle echoed around them, all yips and snarls. Another whistle from Damion was all he needed to urge his nervous cob faster, loosening the pouch tied to his saddle as he went. A few moments more and he had to swerve his horse violently to the left as a snarling mass of silver and tan barreled past him.

Before he could get his horse to settle long enough for him to draw, a large black mastiff raced past him and charged into the fray. The worgen,  _the female_ , he realized, raked her long claws at her attackers, catching and killing one of the pups.

Ammon slipped a knife out and dipped it into the pouch to coat it with the poison. As he drew it out, he carefully watched for an opening in the battle. It was only when the worgen had her jaws wrapped around the big dog's leg did he see an opening and threw, sticking her in the shoulder.

The worgen, just about to rip the dog's haunch off the animal, dropped him and turned to snarl at Ammon. His chest tightened as a familiar pair of livid emerald eyes met his and her name came unbidden from his lips.

"Jeanne..?"

The worgen simply flicked her wedge ears and lunged at him, death in those emerald eyes. Ammon only had the time to flinch back when the worgen landed short, a surprised yelp escaping her. The wounded mastiff had a hold on her leg and wasn't letting go. The worgen turned on the dog and Ammon took the chance to stick another poisoned knife in her other shoulder, tearing her attention from the dog for a split second. Another shortly followed, this time in the back of her neck, and the poison started to take effect.

The female, as if knowing she was done for, made an attempt to run for it. The mastiff still on her leg and the poison made sure that she couldn't escape and the magnificent beast flopped in the snow. A whimper escaped her and she made a final attempt to crawl back onto her feet.

Ammon dismounted and cautiously approached the worgen, knife out in case he needed to put another dose in her. He hesitated when the worgen whimpered again and fell onto her side, chest heaving.

"No….. fair…." He heard her whine, the tone almost matching the one he's heard thousands of times if not for the hoarse quality to the voice.

"I'm sorry Joanie." he whispered past the lump in his throat, kneeling down next to her and cautiously laying a hand on her damp haunch. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you until now. I'm gonna take you home and try and make it up to you."

A half-lidded emerald eye slid over to him and blinked once before closing, her breaths evening out as unconsciousness takes her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel some of the details are owed an explanation...
> 
> I am employing my personal headcannon that the Worgen Curse affects everyone differently in terms of combining Goldrinn's spirit with their original human forms. In this case, Cerdic (yes, I will allow some spoilers) has his hair colour, which translated into his overall fur colouring, and his eye colour in his worgen form. Jeanne, likewise, had kept her long hair and her own eye colour.
> 
> The curse, I believe, effects their human form too, giving them a few of the traits they had in their worgen form. The exact details for Jeanne and Cerdic I will expand upon when we get there.
> 
> For now, I do hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, though I feel it was short and somewhat choppy. I didn't want to bog down the story too much with this interlude between cannon events. Thank you for reading and any sort of feedback is much appreciated! 
> 
> ~Kat


	7. Who Are You..?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ammon takes his catch back to Duskhaven and there is much debate over the identity of the two worgen. The worgen in question are _not_ happy about their situation and make it known.

Ammon stayed there for another moment, gently petting her light fur, and did his best to compose himself. The mastiff came limping towards him and whimpered in pain. Ammon's attention was torn from the worgen for a second to gently pat the mastiff on his bloodied head.

He took out a thick coiled rope from one of the saddlebags and cautiously approached the fallen beast. He bound her securely, though perhaps a little more so than usual, for if his suspicions were correct then they had hell to pay when she woke again.

"You think that's 'er?" The sudden question made him flinch violently despite his training to know what goes on around him. He made certain that the worgen was still in a deep sleep before turning and giving Damion a heated glare.

"Whatever do you mean?"

Damion gave him an unamused look, unusual for the sarcastic man, and waved a hand at the fallen worgen. "Her. Do you think that is your sister?"

Ammon regarded him for a moment or two, sizing him up, before responding. "She does share features with my sister. However, I cannot be certain until we get a potion down her throat."

Damion nodded and gave the worgen a hard look. "Tha' bitch tore through  _five_  of my pups,  _four_  of the best hunting dogs Gilneas has bred and took a chunk out of Ramond before you took 'er down. We -with Ramond's permission- kil-  _euthanized_  him before he could change."

Ammon felt the blood drain from his face at the revelation, glancing between the blood-soaked worgen at his feet and the somber man in front of him.

"I hope yer  _happy_  that you have yer sister back. It came at a steep price."

Ammon didn't say anything -he didn't know how to respond to that- and went back to the task of securing the worgen with numb fingers. He felt Damion's stare at his back for another moment before the man whistled at the mastiff.

"Meet back at camp."

* * *

Ammon halted his cob and gazed at the busy camp with trepidation, unsure if he should even show his face after what had happened. In the end he sighed and pushed his horse to a brisk walk, deciding to ignore their stares. Where else could he go, really?

As he approached, he noticed the other worgen -the big male- already in the cage, and he steered to get a better look at him. The rogue had to bite his lip to contain the gasp from leaving his lips as soon as he got a good look at the dog worgen; he knows that shade of brown  _anywhere_. Ammon's eyes roamed the bound form thoroughly and bit his lip harder when he found what he was looking for.

A bare line of skin parted the fur diagonally across his left haunch, identical to the scar Cerdic had gotten from a boating accident in their youth.

Ammon shook his head to clear it and rode around to the door of the cage where one of his fellow hunters stood waiting for him.

"Took your sweet time gettin' here," he grumbled, glancing at the bound she-worgen draped behind him, "Get that bitch in there before she decided to tear another one of us apart."

Hot anger flooded Ammon at the comment though he kept a mask of cool indifference and hastened to get his sis- _worgen_  off the nervous cob and into the cage. The hunter assisted in shoving her in there and securely locked the iron door, rattling it to make sure it was sealed.

"Pack up your things Delroy; we head to Keel Harbor in an hour. Damion's orders."

* * *

"This your latest batch Damion?"

"Yeah. Lost quite a few dogs baggin' this lot."

"That's unfortunate. Are you delivering this one or wish for someone else to bring them down?"

"Neither. One of my men wants to do the deliverin'."

"Oh? Which one?"

"Th' rogue. Delroy."

"Ah. They are free to pass… You will port a mile or so outside of Duskhaven. Someone will be by to take a look at them."

"Right… Thanks…"

* * *

One dizzying portal ride and cart ride later, Ammon finally found himself on the outskirts of Duskhaven. He gently pulled on the cart horses' reigns to slow them as a familiar young woman came trotting up on her own Gilnean cob.

"Well, I'll be damned! Ammon Delroy, is that you?"

A small smile turned his lips up as he came face to face with Gwen Armstead. "It is… at least the last time I checked. How have you been Miss. Gwen?"

A small frown tugged on the corners of the woman's lips and she sighed, shaking her head slightly. "As well as it could be, considering…"

"Right…" Ammon mentally facepalmed at his stupidity. It was  _her_  city that was holding the feral worgen being experimented on… and that went over  _so_  well with the city's population.

"Anyway," Gwen visibly made an effort to look chipper and urged her horse to move closer to the caged worgen, "Looks like you get yourself two fine worgen in there. Any idea to their identities?"

"Well…" Here, Ammon hesitated, debating on telling his old friend his suspicions or to outright lie to her. Gwen lifted a dark eyebrow and he gave in. "I—I do think it might be Jeanne… and Cerdic…"

_"What?"_  Gwen leaned in to get a closer look at them. "How do you know?"

"They were found together up in the Northern Headlands… near our old home. The female has her eyes and the male has his colouring…"

Gwen daringly reached through the bars and gently lifted an eyelid on the she-wolf, revealing an iris the exact match to the human's beside her. "Well, I'll be damned… It  _does_  look like hers!"

"I told you." Ammon shifted on the wooden seat and bit his lip briefly. "You have room for them?"

"Of course I do! Come!" Gwen kicked her cob into a brisk trot, moving to take the lead. Soon enough, Gwen was leading Ammon down a path moving a little ways away from the main city and closer to the stocks, where there was a very large barn sitting there. Ammon lifted a crimson brow at it; that hadn't been there the last time he'd been in this region.

A cacophony of barks, howls, and snarls tore the air as they neared and Ammon wanted nothing more than to clap his hands over his ears to block them out. Gwen seemed unfazed by the noise, leading him around to the back where there were many large cages lining the walls, each containing a single or a pair of very angry worgen. She stopped and dismounted in front of a cage nearest to the back entrance and waved him over.

"Reckon this will be to their liking?"

Ammon looked over the cage, which had a good lining of straw and a bundle of old horse blankets in the corner, and nodded his approval. "I think it'll do. They're not going to be happy either way…"

Gwen shrugged and busied herself in opening the empty cage. "How much longer are they out?"

"Dunno. I should probably give them another dose… Just to be safe."

"Please do."

Two darts and much struggle later, both worgen were safely secured inside the cage.

"Well," Ammon muttered, wiping his forehead and leaning against the old cart, "That was a struggle."

"No kidding." Gwen mimicked him and, after a moment's more of resting, pushed herself off of the cart and made her way to her horse. "Go and get yourself a room at the inn. You look like hell, Ammon."

"Where are you going?"

"The King needs to know that the Prince's betrothed has been recovered."

"…. She is not going to be happy about that when she comes to…."

"No… But everyone's sacrificed something for this country… It's her turn."

Ammon pursed his lips and glanced back at the drugged she-wolf and turned back to Gwen. "I think she's made one of the ultimate sacrifices already, Miss. Armstead. There's no telling in how she's going to take  _that_  on top of her being a worgen… permanently."

"You're right… I apologize."

"It's alright." Ammon gave the woman a small teasing smile and tilted his head towards the long winding road up to the king's manor. "Don't you have a ride to go on?"

"Right. Blimey, it's good to see you again Ammon."

"Same here Gwen."

The young woman kicked her horse into a fast trot and Ammon watched them go for another moment or two before turning back to the emptied cart and its horses.

"Well, let's get you two into an actual stable to rest."

Plopping himself into the drivers' seat, the rogue spared a last long look to the two worgen, the beings that he held closest to his heart, and flicked the reigns.

* * *

The first thing the she-worgen noticed when she finally dragged herself to consciousness is the fact that the world was so full of  _noise_. Whimpering in pain, she made to cover her ears with her paws and found that she could not lift them, no matter how hard she tried. Nor could she open her eyes. It was like trying to move through thick mud and her thoughts were as sluggish as molasses in winter.

Defeated, the she-worgen laid on a flooring that was definitely  _not_  her horse blanket and let the rest of her body try and wake, trying very hard to ignore the snarls and yips of the other worgen. She didn't know how long she laid there; all she knew was that she had been captured and that her denmate was beside her. The she-worgen lifted a lip in disgust (after she finally regained feeling in her face) and slowly opened her eyes.

They put her in a  _cage_. A bloody  _cage_  with straw and blankets and too many other worgen in one place. No wonder everyone was angry and on edge; they were being treated like prey and it's too crowded for anyone to live comfortably.

She fought down the impulse to voice her anger and instead concentrated on clambering to her paws, which she did eventually with help from the steel wall. Settling down on her haunches, she poked her denmate with a long clawed finger. A pained whine and a bleary eye looking up at her was the result and she had to agree with him this time.

"It go away," she informed him and she was answered by another long, pitiful whine.

The she-worgen huffed out a sigh and staggered to the pile of tattered horse blankets, sitting back on her haunches again to sort through them. She took the biggest two and threw them over her denmate, who grunted in appreciation, and curled up with the remaining two. She fell into a more natural sleep as soon as she got comfortable on the straw.

* * *

Ammon made his way to the noisy barn stifling a yawn; it had been a rough night for him. Being worried and anxious about his two new captures tends to do that to a person, especially if they might be his lost siblings. The rogue stopped short when he saw a couple people standing outside of the barn, chatting quietly in the early morning air. It probably wasn't uncommon for people to be curious about the worgen, though it'd be a stretch to say the same for the King of Gilneas, who was standing outside the rickety barn as if it was something he did every day.

"Lord Delroy," Genn greeted, nodding his head towards the young rogue, "I hear you have brought in your siblings."

"I-It does seem that way, your Majesty." Ammon glanced at Gwen standing beside the King and she simply gave him a grin. "I cannot know for sure until the cure has been attempted on them."

"I agree." Genn hummed and glanced into the barn. "I do admit I am curious to set eyes upon the two in question. With your permission..?"

Gwen stopped in front of the cage that held them and gestured to the King, who leaned forward to get a good look at them. They both were awake and, in the female's case, snarling.

The she-worgen was slender in body though lean muscles rippled under her silver and white fur. Her abnormally long black mane was messily plaited and hung halfway down her back. What really stood out about her was the colour of her eyes; a vivid emerald green that were an identical match to the ones Jeanne and Ammon share.

The male, even crouched in the corner, was still a huge creature. His fur was a hazelnut colour with darker brown points and markings on his face. He had a more average sized mane, though just as darkly hued as every other worgen they've encountered. Beads and small, short plaits decorated it. Like the she-worgen, his most distinguishing feature was his eyes; a deep green, much like the leaves in the forests.

The male regarded the trio with what seemed like a wary curiosity, an expression mirroring their own. He didn't seem to be really bothered by his capture, seeming more inconvenienced than angry or panicked.

His female counterpart, however, was pacing back and forth across the cage in what seemed like anger and restlessness. She kept her eyes on the three at all times, sometimes growling when she passed by them.

A soft chuckle startled Ammon into wheeling around to look at his king. The king had his eyes on the female, who had paused at the new sound, and a small smile on his worn face. Genn stepped closer to the cage, ignoring the warnings both Gwen and Ammon blurted, and stared the female down, smile still on his face. The she-worgen reared onto her hind legs, standing much like a human would, and met the king's stare with a furious one of her own.

Tense moments passed as the two had their silent staring contest. After what seemed like an eternity, the she-worgen sniffed once and dropped back down on all fours. Genn's grin widened a fraction before he stepped back and turned to his stunned companions.

"Was there any doubt, Lord Delroy, that this worgen is your sister? The male is your brother. Why else would they be hunting, and by extension, captured together?"

Ammon's brow furrowed as he regarded the elderly king with the utmost look of shock on his face. "Many unrelated worgen hunt together, Sire… How can you be so sure?"

Genn simply glanced back at the two worgen for a brief moment before replying simply, "Look at them."

He turned back to his companions with a serious look upon his lined face. "These two have now become a priority to receiving treatment. I cannot rest easy until the two people missing from the family closest to mine has their minds back. See to it that it's done Miss. Armstead."


	8. We Are Worgen...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both of Ammon's captured worgen regain their identities with a little help from Aranas's treatment.

Wrong. Everything tasted, smelled  _wrong_. From the water in the small, pitiful bowl her captors had so  _thoughtfully_  provided to the chopped up meat that served as food. They all tasted stale and full of plants that could kill her. There was  _no_  way she was putting that crap in her mouth.

That had sounded good in the beginning, anyway. Now, about two days after she and her denmate had been captured, she was beginning to really reconsider her strategy. Hunger clawed at her belly and she was so damned thirsty that the bowl was looking  _really_  good.

"Eat." Her denmate had taken up a 'do or die' attitude and happily consumed whatever was given to him. A few hours ago he had begun to smell different; more like that human male that visited them often. Now he was pressuring her to do the same, but her pride would not accept anything less than a running stream and fresh meat torn from a deer.

"You starve, fool. You eat. Drink. Feel better."

A weak snarl that was half a whine was his answer as she opened a pitiful emerald eye at him. Her stomach seemed to echo his sentiment, grumbling painfully and she could not hide her wince. He huffed and pushed her bowl of plant-laced water at her with a paw. He gave her a look that clearly said 'drink or I will make you' and she glared back at him for a moment or two before dragging herself to her feet and drank the bowl dry. Before she knew it she was being pushed towards the food pile. Another glare made her eat all she could stomach.

All the bitter-tasting herbs made her head swim and her stomach churn as she dragged herself towards her blanket and collapsed on it. A low whine escaped her before sleep claimed her consciousness.

When she woke again she felt like she had slept for days. Stretching her long limbs, the she-worgen noted that her freshly-scabbed wounds had been healed completely, leaving bare patches in her fur. Snorting, she clambered to her feet and found yet another bowl of water and a glare of 'you better drink that or else' from her denmate. Rolling her eyes, she cautiously sniffed at it, lifting a lip at the herbs still lacing it, and dutifully drank her fill. Unlike last time, the herbs didn't make her head spin, but she hung her tongue out in an effort to get rid of the bitter plant taste.

A movement out of the corner of her eye made her whip her head around to stare distrustfully at the young male watching them. She lifted a lip to expose her sharp fangs in case he decided to try anything funny and contented herself with pacing her cage. She could feel his burning stare on her and it discomforted her to the point of barking her unease.

"Stop looking!"

The male startled and his hand flew to a dagger strapped to his hip. She growled lowly and paced quicker as the urge to run tugged at her paws. A quiet chuckle brought her attention back to the flame-headed male as he crossed his arms and stared at her in amusement.

"It really is you Jeanne."

Jeanne. That name was so bloody  _familiar._ Why was it so familiar? The utter rightness of the name made her pause and cock her head at the male. He stared at her right back before shaking his head and repeated the name.

"You need to come back Jeanne. Cerdic. I need you both to come back to me…"

She felt her denmate tense as the name washed over him and, presumably, the same recognition she had felt. Her soul, the part that was buried so deeply inside her, recognized it, called out in joy for it, much like the sight and smell of this male did. She and her denmate  _knew_  this male and knew him well. She, for the life of her, just could not recall  _where_  from.

She felt her denmate come up beside her and rear up on his back legs to stare down at the human. The human switched targets and the two males stared at each other for a long time. Her denmate jerked so suddenly that the she-worgen froze in alarm. He slowly shook his head and kept blinking, as if coming out of a long sleep, eventually grasping the bars of the cage with both front paws. He squinted at the human, who had frozen with an odd expression, and the she-worgen watched as her denmate's face morphed from confusion to recognition.

_"A-A-Amm—on…?"_

* * *

_What?_

"…Cerd..?" Did he really just..?

"A-Am-mon." The worgen  _-Cerdic-_  repeated, forest eyes boring into his own with a light that was entirely  _human_. "I-I  _k-know_  you. I-I'd know y-you  _anywhere_."

"I-I-I," Ammon backed up, wide-eyed and flabbergasted, "I-I'll be right back."

With that, the rogue turned tail and sprinted back to town, intent on his destination. He skidded on the loose gravel in front of a modest house near the outskirts of town and didn't hesitate beating the door down.

"Gwen! It's Ammon! Open up; it's important!"

As soon as he called the sentence out the door opened and Gwen Armstead stood on her threshold, arms crossed and an annoyed frown on her face. "Why in the bleeding hell are you beatin' down my door at high tea? What's so bloody important?"

"It's Cerdic! I think he's regaining his mind!"

All traces of annoyance bled from her face and was replaced with a potent mixture of excitement and hope. "When did this happen?"

"Not long ago. Come on! We need to help it along!"

Gwen made to follow him out the door but paused at his words. "Has Jeanne shown similar developments?"

"No."

Gwen pursed her lips and a concerned look crossed over her face. "We need to increase her dosage. The potion diluted doesn't seem like it's working."

"How are we going to do that?"

Gwen set her face in a determined expression as she shut the door behind her. Ammon fell in beside her as she led them from her house and deeper into town.

"We're going to need more men for what I have planned."

Gwen rallied up four more men, all having the bulk of a warrior, and they proceeded to the barn, where they found King Greymane already there waiting for them.

At their surprised looks the old king gestured to the worgen standing before him and stated, "I heard the news. Congratulations Ammon."

"Thank you, Sire."

Genn turned his attention to the she-worgen still pacing, her ears flickering back and forth nervously, and asked, "I assume the plan is to give her a full dose?"

"Yes it is, Your Majesty." Gwen supplied, looking the hazel worgen up and down before catching his eye. "Have you really come back to yourself Cerdic?"

The worgen seemed to be a bit startled at being addressed but recovered with a hesitant nod. "I… I suppose… Miss. Armstead, where exactly am I?"

"Duskhaven, Cerdic. We've transported you and your sister here for treatment. It's obviously successful on you."

Cerdic looked puzzled and turned his attention on the silver female staring up at him. "That's…. Jeanne? Truly?"

"…Yes…?"

Horror dawned on his lupine face and he backed himself into the corner, staring at his hand/paws as if seeing them for the first time. "I'm a worgen?  _We're_  worgen?! H-how can this be?!"

Before the situation could get more out of control, Genn cleared his throat and drew the worgen's attention away from himself. "Cerdic Delroy, will you aid us in attempting the cure on your sister? I fear she may be rather uncontrollable until we get her properly restrained."

Ammon thanked the Holy Light for his king's insight; his brother needs the distraction from his… new self. Thankfully, Cerdic nodded and Gwen jumped into action.

"Cerdic, I'm going to need you to grab her as soon as I open the cage. Matt, Ivan, get in there and get something over her muzzle. The rest of you will help wrangle her into the stockades."

Everyone nodded and took their positions. Ammon sighed inwardly and braced himself for the struggle of a lifetime.

"Everyone set? Ready…. GO!"

* * *

Ammon was right; getting Jeanne out of the cage was a momentous feat in itself with how much she thrashed, snapped and lashed out. The thirty yards to the stockades was even more of a fight since Jeanne had a habit of unconsciously calling the plants around her to aid in her fight. They had to deal with both a struggling worgen and the foliage trying to trip them up at every opportunity. It was a miracle no one was bitten or seriously injured.

Now the group (minus the four men Gwen hired for help) stood around a thrashing, yowling Jeanne as they waited for Aranas to come back with the potions.

Cerdic was standing off to the side a little ways outside the main group, ears pinned back at the racket Jeanne was making. His eyes darted from person to person nervously as if expecting someone to attack him when he wasn't looking.

Ammon kept his expression a neutral calm, though inside he was deeply hurt that his own brother didn't trust him to not attack him on sight. Sure, they often didn't see eye-to-eye on things, but this was his  _brother_ , his own family. After another moment of this, Ammon sighed gustily and approached Cerdic, who shrunk back from him slightly.

"Don't you dare hide from me Cerd," the younger man hissed, "I fought too damned hard for you to let you go and do this to yourself. It is no fault of yours that you are what you are. Stop acting like it."

Cerdic leveled at him the most furious, most desperate glare he has seen on his brother's face. "I am a  _worgen_. A  _fucking worgen_ , Ammon. I am one of the  _beasts_  that killed so many of our people! For all I know I could turn on you, on  _all_  of you, at any moment and I'd have to live with the guilt that I  _murdered_  my own family! I  _never_  asked for this!"

"You're wrong Cerd." Ammon stepped right up to the worgen and pounded a fist over his brother's heart. " _They_  didn't have the heart, the  _will_  that you do. I know for a bloody fact that you'd  _never_  hurt your family or your friends. Even when you weren't yourself you never hurt a single hair on me. You had plenty of opportunities to, believe me, but you never  _did_. That says a lot."

Cerdic still looked unconvinced but remained silent as Aranas came bustling in carrying a crate full of flasks of semi-transparent blue potion. With a gusty sigh, Ammon gave Cerdic a last look before rejoining the group around Jeanne.

"Hold her down so she doesn't end up choking on it," Aranas ordered without preamble, taking a full flask from the crate at his feet and popping it open with a practiced motion.

Both Ammon and Cerdic took places on either side of her and grabbed her head; Ammon took fistfuls of her mane and fur at the base of her head while Cerdic wrenched her jaws wide open. A garbled snarl was all she voiced before Aranas upended the bottle down her throat and Cerdic snapped her jaws shut until she swallowed it all. They waited a few minutes for any sign of change to no avail. The only change they saw was her going limp, as if suddenly exhausted, and the plants calm around them.

"Another." Ammon ordered on a breath and Aranas was on it, only needing assistance in holding her head up at a better angle. Two more potions went down like that and there was still no change.

"She's had enough to kill a horse," Genn mumbled, regarding the still worgen with concern.

"It's time to put this one down." Lord Godfrey, who had shown up at one point or another, sneered, wrinkling his nose disdainfully at the trapped worgen. "It's protocol."

" _Excuse you_ ," Ammon snarled, leveling a nasty glare in the older man's direction, "No one asked for your  _bleeding_  opinion. If you know what's good for you, you'd do well to keep your trap shut."

Godfrey flushed in rage and spun on his heel to stalk off. Ammon watched him go before turning back to his comatose sister still fully feral.

"It's up to you Ammon. Giving her this much can potentially kill her. Or it can cure her."

Ammon glanced at Cerdic then back at Aranas. "Give me the bottles. She'd never forgive us if we didn't go all out in trying to get her back."

* * *

_Is this what death is like? This is oddly… pleasant…_

Jeanne mused as she felt cocooned in a blanket of warmth and bliss. Her eyes remained closed and she had no desire to open them to see what was laying in the Beyond. Faint voices filtered through the blanket of bliss, muffled and unimportant in her mind.

_I wonder if that's Mama and Papa. Light knows how much I've missed them._

The voices got louder and clear enough for her to sluggishly recognize the speakers.

_That's not them… Ammon? Why are you here?!_

A spike of alarm cleared any traces of bliss from her mind and she struggled through the suddenly suffocating darkness in her desire to  _know more_.

_No! You can't be here! I need to know you're okay!_

"Come back Jeanne…  _Please…_ "

_I'm coming! Hold on Ammy, I'm coming!_

She fought through the darkness with renewed vigor, feeling as if her body was moving through an entire field of mud that didn't want to let her go. She opened her mouth to try and yell for help when she swallowed an entire mouthful of whatever she was slogging through. She felt the liquid hit her stomach and a freezing wave coursed through her body from the inside out, as if her insides had been dumped into a bucket of ice water.

Gasping, she opened her eyes in shock and lurched forward, shivers running up and down her body. Churned up mud and stone came into focus as she fought to regain her breath. She groaned as the pain of cramped muscles hit her, not truly registering the lower pitched voice as her own.

"Jeanne!" She jumped at the volume of the voice and the face of her twin swam into view.

"A-Am-Ammon?"

The normally calm and collected rogue beamed at that, his face filling with relief and joy.

"Yes, Joanie, it's me! By the Light it's good to have you back!"

Jeanne blinked at that and made to stand up straight only to find that both her hands and neck were immobilized.

"Where am I?"

"In the stocks at Duskhaven."

Jeanne jolted in shock from that, ignoring the protest her aching muscles gave at the sudden movement.

"Why am I here?! Oh, Light help me if Cerdic finds out I'm here of all places…."

"Actually, Jeanne… I'm right here…" The tone of that voice made her heart sink a split second before the foreign timbre registered in her mind.

"Cerdic? What happened to you? You sound funny."

A monstrous brown worgen walked into her line of sight and she panicked, struggling to get up and  _cast until this thing is dead_ before Ammon patted her on the cheek.

"It's alright. He won't hurt you."

_"Won't-?!"_

"Jeanne, it's me." The worgen said, the same voice from before, though now tainted with sorrow. "It's Cerdic."

A sad smile wormed its way over his lips, an expression she instantly recognized seeing before on her older brother, as he continued, "As for what happened to me… The same thing that happened to you, dear sister. Though I believe you were bitten before I was."

_What? You mean to tell me…_

"I'm a worgen." The statement was flat and full of shock. "You're a worgen! How—? What-?"

"Yes,  _we_ are worgen." Cerdic's voice was now tinged with bitterness as he snorted in a mocking manner. "Welcome to the club of the cursed, Sister."

"Cerdic!" Ammon snapped, turning to glare at the worgen. Cerdic held it for a few moments before breaking it with a huff.

Ammon turned back to Jeanne, pulled the pin on the stockade and lifted the wooden arm to set her free. She hissed as she straightened up and rolled her sore shoulders back. It took a few moments before she realized she was looking  _down_  at her twin and a shiver ran up her spine at the unnaturalness of it all.

"…Hey, I'm finally taller than you."


	9. Come on, We're Delroys!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeanne and her siblings are finally reunited when the Forsaken start their attack on Gilneas.

Ammon blinked at the attempt at a joke and snorted, shaking his head.

"Doesn't help that you're seven feet tall, Jeanne."

Jeanne couldn't help but grin at the rebuttal, a touch of normalcy in an otherwise insane situation. As she looked around again, a dark blur caught her attention as it dashed inside the stockades and slid to a stop in front of Gwen. It was another worgen and, judging by the panicked look on the female's face, she didn't bear good news.

"Miss. Armstead! Sir. Aranas! The crate of essence you had sent me to retrieve is destroyed!"

_"What?!"_

The dark female nodded and drew a long dagger with a skull ornament carved into its hilt from her pack and presented it to Gwen, who took it with shaking hands.

"What's more is that I was attacked by an undead assassin before I got the chance to warn you! I think we're being invaded!"

The words barely left the worgen's mouth before the very land shook violently as the first bombardment hit. There were shouts as people were knocked off their feet and the sounds of things breaking on the ground. The sounds of battle reached their ears shortly after the tremors subsided and everyone ground into action.

"Delroys!" Gwen shouted over the din, "We need to mount a defense! There must be a break in the reefs from the recent earthquakes for the Forsaken to get through like this! Ammon, you come with me to round up the militia! Jeanne, Cerdic, you two report to the Prince and make sure he doesn't get himself killed!"

Ammon gave Jeanne a brief squeeze on the wrist and jogged after Gwen. Jeanne turned towards the unmistakable sounds of battle and jogged towards that. A familiar scent caught her attention as she neared the battlefield —sweat-soaked male with an underlying smell of roses, fine soap, and… alcohol?— and she followed it through buildings to the source. The Prince, who was, for whatever reason, fighting topless and with a broken bottle of…  _oh_.

Jeanne snarled and launched herself over the gathering of  _living_  people and practically landed on the larger gathering of  _quite-dead-but-also-somehow-living_  people and proceeded to tear them from limb-to-limb. Most of the living people switched their focus to new targets, though a few remained standing there staring at the absolute carnage she was making, completely gobsmacked.

"Well?" Jeanne snarled at the defenders around her main living focus, "Aren't you bleeding knobbers going to  _do something_?!"

Some of them swung cocked and loaded guns to point at her but she was in  _no_ mood to deal with them. She merely batted them aside as if they were nothing but twigs, stalked up to the bare-chested man and snatched the bottle out of his hands, tossing it over her shoulder for good measure.

"What," she began with a deep growl, ignoring more guns being pointed at her, "In. Uther's. Left. Testicle. Are you _doing out here with_ no _armour in sight and positively sloshed?!_ "

Liam simply blinked and leaned forward, squinted hazel eyes roaming her new form; from her eyes to her long plait of hair (when did she do  _that?_ ) down along her lithe, silver-furred form, and back up to her eyes. A look of disbelief bled over his face quickly followed by joy and he crowed in delight, crossing the few feet that separated them.

"Jeanne! You ARE alive! I couldn't believe it when Father told me you'd been r-recovered!"

She had to give him some credit; he managed to mostly hide his drunken hiccup and anyone who wasn't looking for it wouldn't have picked up on it. However, Jeanne had the heightened hearing of a wolf and her scowl got deeper.

"Liam Greymane. Why are you out in a battle? With  _no_  armour for protection. And drunk off your arse."

The Prince shifted guiltily and curled the hand that was previously holding the broken bottle into a fist. "The people need—"

"They don't need to see their prince fall to these bastards!" Jeanne gestured wildly out at the attacking Forsaken, which her brother was happily dismembering, before poking him in the chest with the tip of her claw. "Which you  _will_  given the lack of protection you have. What in the hell brought you to drink in the first place?!"

Liam met her gaze stubbornly for a moment before another violent lurch from the earth sent them all tumbling to the ground. With a snarled curse, Jeanne righted herself and rounded on Liam, who was just staggering to his feet.

"We will talk later, mark my words  _Princey_. What needs to be done?"

Liam had the nerve to shoot her an insulted look at the use of the nickname before surveying the battlefield and pointed something out.

"I don't recommend taking those abominations alone,  _Joanie_. Unless, of course, you have a death wish. My pla—"

A deep snarl interrupted him and he got a full view of all her sharp, yellow teeth. Wrinkling his nose slightly, he gave her a sharp glare before pointing out a barrel sitting innocently on the side of the road.

"As I was saying, my plan is for you to grab those barrels full of black gun powder and toss 'em at the abominations, preferably at their head. Think you can manage that?"

Jeanne snapped her teeth irritably in answer and loped off on all fours. She snatched the aforementioned barrel, tucked it under her arm much like a sack of flour and steered towards the nearest rotting white blob.

Dodging a Forsaken foot soldier that had spotted her and letting him get caught in the plant-life that had been agitated by her anger, she paused around twenty yards away from the monster and transferred the barrel into her right hand. Sighting her target, Jeanne drew back and chucked it as hard as she could at the abomination. The barrel flew and hit the monster dead in the face, splintering the bottom of the barrel and causing black powder to start cascading down its front.

"I CAN'T SEE IN HERE!" It cried, staggering about stupidly before a well-placed bullet exploded its top half to bits.

Jeanne cackled in morbid glee at the explosion and, taking to all fours again, dashed off for more barrels of black powder. The rest of the powder on the field (and there wasn't that much more) went the same way: exploding the abominations to bits. Jeanne, not normally taking pleasure to things being killed willy-nilly, thoroughly enjoyed seeing the monsters that were invading  _her_  home get their comeuppance. She was in a significantly better mood when she trotted back up to Liam, who seemed to be waiting for her alongside Cerdic.

The Prince seemed to have forgiven her for her earlier transgressions as he gave her a delighted grin and reloaded his blunderbuss.

"I've forgotten how good of a team we make, Jeanne. Despite what I said earlier, and I do apologize for my insensitive words, it is good to have you back…"

Liam's grin softened to an apologetic smile, which surprised Jeanne. In all the years she had known him, he had never directly apologized to anyone. Before she could ponder on it further, Liam's hazel eyes slid from her to the corpse-ridden field beyond and grimaced.

"You two check in with Mayor Armstead and do what she needs done. We have to move quickly to avoid even bigger problems…"

"Right." Cerdic snuffled the air for a moment before turning towards the middle of the town and gesturing for Jeanne to follow. Before she could do so, Liam stopped her with a soft touch on her arm. "Figure out a way to take the Forsaken out at their landing site. Do anything you have to; Gilneas is depending on you."

Jeanne gave him a sharp nod on understanding and loped off after Cerdic. She caught up to him just as he entered town and fell in beside him as he made a beeline over to the familiar figure of Gwen.

"Cerdic! Jeanne! Good to see you!" Gwen's smile was thin and fatigue was written in every line of her pale face. "I have great news. Ammon's leading the militia to meet the Forsaken head on."

Upon seeing the sibling's looks of concern, she quickly added, "He's perfectly capable of leading this attack, don't worry. He is as fine of a rogue as they come; he'll be fine."

Cerdic shook his head slowly. "I suppose him hanging around those… thieves… was not such a bad thing after all. Have you any work for us, Miss. Armstead?"

The woman glanced over his huge form, a thoughtful look coming over her weary face. "You know, I think I do. You're not gonna like it though.

"I've heard reports that Lord Godfrey has commandeered the Allen's storm cellar east of here… I need you two to report to him and do  _whatever_  he needs done. You understand Jeanne?"

Jeanne felt her face twist into a fearsome scowl at the mention of Lord Godfrey but nodded anyway. Cerdic snorted and clapped a huge hand on her shoulder before bowing lowly to Gwen. "May your shots fly true Miss. Armstead. Come Jeanne, we have work to do."

With an ill-tempered snarl, Jeanne started after him before Gwen called after her. "Oh, and Jeanne? Play nice with Godfrey."

"Can't make any promises. I'll behave if he does."

* * *

"So the rumors  _are_  true.  _Congratulations_  on regaining your mind Lady Delroy."

Jeanne grit her teeth and contented herself on glowering down at the man. The man met her gaze and a subtle smirk lifted his lips as he casually rubbed a finger over the blunderbuss he carried; he seemed to be enjoying the fact that he can taunt her and she couldn't retaliate without getting a bullet to the head.

"Mayor Armstead sent us here to aid you. What needs to be done?" Cerdic interjected before his sister got herself killed.

Lord Godfrey's face turned grim as he faced the eldest Delroy. Before he could get a word out, a raven-haired woman tugged urgently at Jeanne's ragged shirt. The woman looked like she had been sobbing for some time and her breaths came in ragged gasps as she pleaded.

"My Lady, you have to help me! M-my children are s-still out there! I d-didn't have time to r-retrieve them before the mi-litary f-forced me in here. Th-they are in great danger! Please find them!"

Cold fear seized Jeanne's heart as she watched more tears start leaking from the woman's wide brown eyes. Without thinking, Jeanne placed a hand on the woman's shoulder and stated firmly, "I'll bring them back safe and sound. I swear it on my life."

Relief and joy bled over the woman's face as she gripped Jeanne's enormous hand in both her own. "Thank you my Lady! Light bless you and your family."

"What are their names?"

"James, Ashley, and Cynthia, my Lady. They should be next door."

Jeanne nodded and ran towards the exit without another word. She had to brace herself against the stone wall as the land shook from the catapults bombarding them but surged on; she had a promise to uphold. The worgen took a long draw of the air and immediately identified the child's scent intermixed with the scent of wheat and rotting flesh.

_Wonderful, the Forsaken are raiding the farm. There goes being quick about this._

With a snort, Jeanne followed her nose and found the boy searching outside the house and in the field.

"James, your mother sent me to find you and your siblings." Jeanne stated, "She's in the basement next door! Get to her now!"

She inwardly flinched at the boy's frightened expression as he stared up at her.

"Please don't hurt me! I-I was just looking for my sisters! I think Ashley's inside the house!" The boy squeaked out before he bolted towards the cellar.

_One down, two to go… Am I really that scary now..?_

With a sigh, Jeanne dropped down to all fours and bolted towards the house, slowing when she heard the sounds of things shuffling around and the reek of rotting flesh hit her nose. She lowered herself closer to the ground and crept towards the open door, bracing herself for battle. She felt something shift in her soul but she pounced before she could process it. She was alarmed when her body felt very different from what she came to think as her own. The Forsaken raider proved to be not too much of a challenge, dismembering him with new snowy white cat-like paws with ease.

_What the hell is going on?! Last I checked I was wolf-like, not cat-like!_

After the undead was most certainly dead, Jeanne spotted a cracked mirror on a wooden vanity and padded into its view. Her body froze when she got a good look at her reflection.

Bright, slightly glowing blue eyes stared back at her, framed by a blood-stained white feline face. Her 'mane' was cloud grey and a leather collar sat right behind the base of her head. A bright blue crescent shaped 'tattoo', similar in colour to her eyes, marked her shoulders.

_Why the hell am I a-a lion! I think that's what I am… Wait… didn't Celestine say something about some druids being able to shapeshift into a feline form..?_

The sounds of a faint sniffling brought her out of her thoughts and she immediately turned towards it. She padded forward a few steps, frowned, and thought about shifting back into her worgen form. Feeling the same feeling as earlier, Jeanne grinned happily at the sight of her worgen hands and carefully crept up the stairs. She made sure she kept low to the ground to not scare the little girl she smelled and nosed open a broken bedroom door. The sight of a little girl huddled tightly in a dim corner broke her heart and she made sure to make some noise to let her know that she was there. The girl, Ashley, she remembered, whimpered and peeked through her arms at Jeanne, lifting her head our of her arms when she saw her rescuer.

Jeanne paused halfway across the room and cleared her throat, startling the girl, and said, "Ashley, your mother sent me to retrieve you and your siblings. She's in the basement next door and she's worried sick about you. You need to hurry back to her."

Ashley looked startled at Jeanne's low, gritty voice for a second before she examined her rescuer closely, a look of curiosity and awe growing on her face.

"Y-You're one of the good worgen, aren't you miss..? Mama wouldn't have made you look for us if you weren't… Cynthia is hiding in the shed outside. You go get her."

Without another word, Ashley stood up, approached the crouching Jeanne carefully, reached out a hand and rubbed Jeanne's furry snout before smiling brightly and dashing out of the room. Jeanne snorted in amusement and stood, jogging down the same path and headed out into the wheat field in search of the last sibling.

A high, terrified scream startled her and she dashed towards the shed where it originated. Jeanne came barreling out of the wheat and hit the Forsaken, who had been holding the little girl by her arm, with everything she had. She didn't even notice herself transition into her feline form until after the Forsaken foot soldier had been properly dismembered. Muttering curses under her breath, she changed back and padded over to the little girl, who was cowering in a corner.

"It's not safe for you to be out here Cynthia. Your mother is in the Allen's basement."

The little girl squeaked in terror and looked up at her with frightened eyes. "You're scary! I want my mommy!"

Jeanne sighed and stood, watching the girl fall over herself to get as far away from her as quickly as she could. Her ears folded back and she shook her head before following at a trot.

_I never want children. The world is too cruel, too cold of a place for them._

With another internal sigh, she was almost at the basement before she heard a familiar voice bellow her name.

"Joan! I've got a brilliant plan and I need you to help me!"

An involuntary groan escaped her and she turned towards her older brother with a fierce frown. "Does it involve getting us all killed?"

"No! Hear me out!"

"I'm listening…"

Cerdic stopped in front of her and pointed towards the docks, where the Forsaken ships are anchored and attacking. "Lord Godfrey told me that he wanted us to take out the Forsaken captains via catapult to stop the bombardment. Well, why don't we take this idea a bit further and  _steal_  the ships for our own forces?"

Jeanne stared at him, gobsmacked, before pointing out the obvious. "Cerd, we're  _two_  worgen. Those ships need a crew of at  _least_  ten to operate each ship. We don't have enough people to pull this off."

"Ah, and that's where the brilliant part comes in," Cerdic continued, a wide grin on his face, "I've already rounded up some other people willing to help us with that. With some basic direction, we  _can_  pull this off."

Jeanne pondered that idea for a moment or two, making calculations in her head. Seeing as she wasn't completely sold on the idea, Cerdic smirked and interjected slyly.

"Come on, Joanie, we're  _Delroys_! We are the greatest sailors Gilneas has ever bred. If anyone can pull this off, it's us."

With a defeated sigh, Jeanne snapped her teeth and glared up at her brother.

"Fine. If I die I'm going to haunt you for the rest of your bloody life, wanker."


	10. Mass Evacuation!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stealing the Forsaken ships proves to be a fruitless venture as Duskhaven starts to crumble into the ocean. Jeanne is tasked with helping evacuate the citizens to higher ground.

"I am going to die and it's going to be your bloody fault!"

Cerdic glared up at Jeanne, who was tentatively seated on the launching arm of the catapult and shot back, "Stop being such a bleeding nancy! Everything's going to be fine!"

"Says the one not currently on the bleeding catapult!"

"Just make sure you land on the ship! More worgen will be joining you! All you need to worry about is the captain and the others will clear the rest of the crew for you!"

"I swear on everything holy that if this goes wrong I will come back and murder you!"

"Love you too Joanie!"

With a wide shit-eating grin, Cerdic pulled the lever and watched as his sister flew through the air. He could clearly hear the hollow  _thunk_  of her hitting the main mast before turning to signal the other worgen to launch. He hopped back into his 'borrowed' catapult and drove it to the other ship. The warrior look a long look at the long throwing arm and sighed, setting the controls and clambering onto it.

* * *

Jeanne watched in morbid satisfaction as the last Forsaken sailor was dumped off the ship by one of her crewmates. She quickly counted heads and had to reign in a sigh; there were only roughly  _half_  the people she needed to operate the ship correctly and, judging by the way they stumbled when the ship rocked, they had little to no sailing experience.

_Damn you Cerdic and your half-baked plans! You're gonna get us all killed!_

"Does anyone here have any sailing experience?" One tentative hand was raised and Jeanne grit her teeth in frustration. "How much?"

"M-my Father and I are fishermen, miss."

Jeanne snapped her teeth in irritation and surveyed her rag-tag crew. "Alright. You, er…"

"M'name's James, Ma'am."

"James. You are my First Mate. Get these landlubbers ship shape so we can push off!"

"Aye, aye Captain!"

Jeanne felt a small smirk flit over her lips as her newly-appointed first mate began shouting orders and instructions to the other four crewmembers. Perhaps this  _could_  work after all…

* * *

Cerdic felt a small bubble of joy well up inside him as he watched his five crewmates work on launching the ship under the circumstances. The warrior's gaze jerked up as the hoarse yells of attacking undead sounded from the docks.

"Hostiles attacking portside!" Cerdic bellowed, drawing out the long broadsword that Gwen shoved at him earlier, "Defend the ship!"

The warrior charged the first Forsaken that jumped onto the ship and engaged in a fierce battle as more clambered up. When he was done cleaving his enemy in half he spun in the direction of the other ship.

"Jeanne! The Forsaken are on the attack! Cut and run while you still can!"

He felt a line of fire cut across his haunch and he yelped in pain before spinning around to lob off the raider's head. He strained to hear anything above the battle to indicate that his sister had heard him. After a few violent moments he heard a faint, "Aye, aye!" from that direction and he grinned. This  _was_  going to work.

"Countin' of you little sis. Don't let me down now."

* * *

"Hoist the anchors! The sooner we get this ship movin' the better!"

"Aye, aye!"

Jeanne lifted a lip at the Forsaken scurrying to get aboard before they set sail. Striding over to one of her crewmates (a hunter judging by her large mastiff), she jerked the blunderbuss out of its sling, took aim and shot the first Forsaken she saw clambering onto the ship. She smirked and handed the weapon back to its owner and shifted into a casting stance. A green ball of magic sent the next one flying off the deck right as the mastiff barreled into the one after that.

"We're set to push off Captain!"

Jeanne wheeled around and jogged up the wooden steps up to the wheel and shouted, "Very good! Let's cut and run!"

Before they could so much as move a muscle, a loud rumbling shook the earth just below them. A split second later the land started to buckle under the stress and seemingly all at once sunk below the ocean's surface. Jeanne didn't even have the time to shout a warning before a large wave hit the ship and washed a good portion of the crew overboard. She held tightly to the wheel and struggled to keep her feet as the ship rolled and bobbed in the water. What was left of the crew had no such luck as they tumbled overboard and into the frothing water. Jeanne's heart ached in sympathy for them, knowing there was very little chance they'd make it out alive.

After what seemed like an eternity, the waters calmed and Jeanne cried out in shock and horror at what she saw. The stretch of land spanning from the docks to Duskhaven was gone; disappeared like it was never there. It wasn't that the ocean rose and flooded it, but the land itself had crumbled into the ocean, taking both Gilneas's remaining defenders and their Forsaken attackers.

The druid stared at it for a moment longer before a strangled cry for help roused her from her stunned daze. She looked about wildly and spotted one of the human defenders waving frantically at her. Glancing once at the ship and grimacing, she took a deep breath and held it as she launched herself off the port side. There was no way in hell that she could operate the large ship by herself nor did she have the provisions for a rescue mission.

Jeanne whimpered involuntarily at the water's chill and effortlessly glided through the water towards the man, who had grabbed onto a piece of driftwood and was watching her approach. She didn't say a word to him, presenting her back to him and he wrapped shaking arms around her neck. The worgen then turned towards the new shore and paddled towards it, keeping an eye out for any unwanted company. They didn't encounter any when Jeanne finally padded ashore, dropping the man on the soggy ground before turning back towards the water, intent on saving more of her people.

"Jeanne!" A familiar voice called and she had to stifle the irritated growl in her throat as she turned towards the speaker.

" _What_ , Liam? We need to hurry and save our people before they drown!"

The blonde man nodded in agreement and proceeded to strip his newly-acquired shirt off and gesture towards the water. "Ladies first."

She didn't bother to reign in a short annoyed snarl before she dove back into the water, diving under only after she heard a similar splash behind her. She and the Prince (along with other worgen volunteers) worked tirelessly to rescue what they could, fighting off the Forsaken survivors when needed, until they started bringing back lifeless bodies.

Jeanne huffed in exhaustion as she shrugged another drowned defender off her back and scanned the remaining survivors with growing concern. She had seen no sign of either of her brothers in all this and it was never a good sign. A hand on her arm startled her and she whirled around on an equally exhausted looking Liam.

"They're fine. Your blood is too damn stubborn to be taken down this easily." The Prince gave her a small reassuring smile before they both stumbled as the ground beneath them shook lightly. Liam frowned and practically growled with frustration.

"Seems the land doesn't want to settle itself… I hate to say this, but we must get everyone to higher ground before we're flooded. I  _don't_  want to lose my homeland twice in one lifetime, Joan… Tell Gwen to start the evacuation."

Jeanne squeezed Liam's shoulder briefly before dashing away to fulfill her orders. She found the woman mounted on a brown and white horse on the far side of town frantically issuing orders to worgen and humans alike. Jeanne slid to a stop in front of her, frightening the horse a bit, and bowed to the woman.

"Gwen! Liam ordered an evac—"

"Evacuation, I know! Already in motion Lady Delroy! I've already sent your brothers to evacuate Miss. Crowley and the Hayward brothers."

"What else needs doing then?"

Gwen pulled out a rolled up parchment out of her satchel and skimmed over it briefly. She nodded after a moment and rolled it back up, a slight glint of amusement in her brown eyes.

"The only one left is Grandma Wahl at her cottage. I need you to convince her to come with us."

At the sight of Jeanne's look of exasperation Gwen couldn't help but giggle helplessly.

"I'm asking you to have  _some_  patience, Jeanne. You know she's not entirely there anymore.  _Be nice!_ "

With a grumble, Jeanne dropped back down on all fours and pelted away down the path. She briefly glimpsed Ammon lassoing one of Lorna's mountain horses before the path split to go towards a small cottage with a stone fence around it. Jeanne slowed to a walk when she neared the cottage and knocked on the wooden door when she got to it. An elderly woman answered, her hazel eyes lighting up in surprise at the sight of the druid.

"A visitor! Oh, my, you should've sent word ahead that you were coming; I need to set another place at the table! Are you staying for tea, sweetie?"

Jeanne cleared her throat uncomfortably and shook her head. "Erm, no I am not, Ma'am. I need you to come with me to the evacuation point in Duskhaven. It's not safe for you here."

Grandma Wahl furrowed her grey brows, confused. "Leave? Now? Well, I suppose I will if I must…"

"Oh, good. If you'll just come with me…"

"Wait a moment, dear. I just can't leave without my favourite book! Could you go find it in the garden?"

"Now, Missus Wahl…"

Jeanne bit back an impatient snarl as the elderly woman shook her head condescendingly. "Please just retrieve the book."

The worgen spun around and stalked back outside, muttering curses all the way towards the arbor on the far end of the property.

"Bloody book…. Bloody old codger… I swear if she doesn't leave…."

Jeanne snatched the linen wrapped book from off the stone bench and turned to stalk back to the house when a hoarse yell interrupted her journey.

"Bloody  _hell!_  I DON'T NEED THIS RIGHT NOW!"

Her Forsaken attacker hesitated just the briefest seconds in the face of her anger. Before Jeanne could shift into her new cat form, the roses around her attacker grew and entrapped him in their grasp. He swore loudly and hacked at them with his sword in a desperate attempt to free himself. A vine curled its way around his neck and tightened until he dropped dead. All this took place in a span of a few seconds and Jeanne just stared as the roses, coated with blackened blood, settled back down in their beds as if nothing had happened.

"Well… That's one way to take care of things… Thanks."

_You are welcome, friend of the earth_

Jeanne froze in shock for a second before shaking her head and making her way back to the cottage. Everything she thought impossible was happening, so talking plants were not much of a surprise in the light of things. She bit back curses as she shoved the book at the old woman, who took it with a reprimanding click of her tongue.

"My, my, someone is impatient. Surely your mother taught you better manners than this! Please fetch my good clothes on the line outside. You can't expect me to go out in public looking like this!"

"… You've got to be joking… right?"

"Where  _are_  your manners, young lady? Don't you know how to listen to instructions?"

Jeanne felt a growl start up in her throat and spun away out the door, barely resisting the urge to slam it behind her. She stalked around to the side of the house, yanked the clothes off the line, bundled them up, and turned back to the cottage. Behind her she heard a gurgle and she turned to find more plants strangling yet another Forsaken assassin that had been hiding in the bushes. She waited long enough to ensure that he was dead before proceeding back to the cottage, where she shoved the clothes at the old woman.

"By the Light! You have the  _most_  atrocious manners I have  _ever_  seen! Were you raised by  _ogres_?!"

"What  _else_  do you need? We don't have all night you know!"

The elderly woman huffed and shook her head in a condescending manner. "How rude! I almost have the mind to report you to your superior when we get into town!"

"Go right on ahead!"

That earned the worgen a haughty glare. "I  _will!_  I suppose you can retrieve my cat, Chance. He likes to play near the arbor on the broken cart. Bring him back  _alive_  and I will come with you on this evacuation nonsense."

"Fine by me!"

With that Jeanne stalked back out the house and down the cobbled path towards the arbor. She huffed when she spotted the orange cat sleeping on a rock and felt a little of her irritation melt away at the sight. Before she could get close enough to pick him up, the cat yowled in surprise when a rotting hand snatched him by the scruff of his neck and stuff him into a bag.

Jeanne snarled at the undead man, who chuckled darkly at her. "The cat is mine! It's the perfect bait to lure out that old bitch!"

The man's grin deepened as he slipped his sword out of its sheath and charged her, yelling, "Prepare to die, fool!"

Jeanne only had the time to duck under his wild swing before she morphed herself into her cat form without thought. She slashed at the Forsaken's legs, tripping him up as well as shredding what muscles he had left, and was about to finish him off when an unearthly howl stopped her in her tracks. She only had time to leap back before a dark grey worgen barreled into him, whacking him with a wooden rolling pin while she screeched.

"Give!"  _Whack!_  "Me!"  _Whack!_  "Back!"  _Whack!_ "My!"  _Whack!_  "Kitty!"  _Whack!_

Jeanne gaped in awe as the elder woman, who turned out to be a worgen, single-handedly beat the Forsaken man to death with ease. The cat in question tore out of the leather bag and Jeanne barely had time to scoop him up when he tried to zoom past her. She braced herself for a terrified cat trying to squirm out of her grasp and was surprised when he seemed to settle in her arms. The druid glanced up in time to see the grandma deal the killing blow and flee back to her cottage, leaving the rolling pin sticking out of the Forsaken's neck. Jeanne stared after her for a moment before physically shaking herself out of her shock and followed her at a much slower pace.

"Bloody  _hell!_ " Jeanne came up short at the sight of an entirely  _human_  Grandma Wahl staring at her, an expectant look on her face. It morphed into one of relief at the sight of her orange tabby nestled in Jeanne's arms and she came forward to take him.

"Oh, Grandma was  _so_  worried about you! I  _suppose_  this rude girl has some use after all, don't you think so?"

"Wait!" Jeanne jerked out of her stupor and reached out to stop the elder woman, "How did you  _transform_  into a human?! Tell me  _please!_  I am  _begging_  you!"

Grandma Wahl ignored her and paused when she caught sight of her hands. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she exclaimed, "What manner of dirt found its way underneath my fingernails!"

Jeanne's heart seized as she realized that the elderly woman wasn't going to answer her questions and she sighed in frustration. She glared at her fur-covered hands for a few moments before fisting them in anger.

_I will be human again, no matter what the cost._

* * *

"You are a miracle worker, Miss. Jeanne. I would never have thought you could convince Grandma Wahl to leave her home. Did she give you much trouble?" A hearty snarl was Gwen's answer and the woman giggled in response. "I suspected as much. I'm impressed that you held your temper with her."

"I'm sure you'll hear differently from her.  _Please_  tell me you have other things for me to do… I will not be responsible for my actions if I have to even get another  _whiff_  of her perfume…"

A half amused, half exasperated sigh was her answer before Gwen pulled out her parchment again, skimming it for names that may have been missed.

"I believe we have everyone accounted for, which means you need to head to safety now.  _Don't_  give me that look; I'll be okay! I've got to arrange the transportation of the few ferals we still have. Take this horse and I'll see you up at Greymane Manor."

Jeanne gave the horse beside her a wary stare before sighing and moving to mount it.

"Oh, and Jeanne?" The worgen paused to hear what the woman had to say. Gwen gave her a playful grin and wrinkled her nose slightly. "Arrange for a bath when you get there. You need it."

"Bugger off!" Jeanne snapped, yelping when Gwen have her horse's haunch a sharp slap and it burst into a gallop. The druid grumbled and held tightly to his mane as the mountain cob surged up the steep inclines like it was nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, before you all kill me for not continuing on the ship stealing plotline, I have reasoning behind it. I was truly going to continue it when I ran into the problem of trying to run that plot alongside the cannon plot. The series of quests ahead (most importantly the ones in the Blackwald), couldn't be done if Jeanne and Cerdic were busy captaining the ships, which means they would probably have gone feral again after Aranas's potion wore off. I also wanted to write a little more about Jeanne's backstory and I couldn't if there was too much action going on.
> 
> There was also the fact that the ships sunk after the land had crumbled into the ocean... so I had really no choice in the matter in returning to the cannon storyline...


	11. Memories and Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeanne arrives at Greymane Manor and takes an unexpected trip down memory lane with the Queen of Gilneas. Duskhaven has crumbled into the ocean and the Delroys are separated yet again for the benefit of the evacuation.

Jeanne dismounted a little ways away from where the royal carriages were parked, gladly handing over her mount to a stable boy and jogging up the short path up the final incline. She ignored the few worgen loitering outside after determining that her brother was not among them and ventured inside and was greeted by another familiar face.

"Lady Jeanne! Oh, it is good to see you again!"

"My Queen?" Jeanne blinked in surprise at the sudden feeling of warm arms circling her lower half and returned the embrace after a moment. "I was not expecting to be welcomed back so… warmly…"

"Well, you  _are_  a bit different," Queen Mia stated, looking the worgen up and down with a warm, motherly gaze, "But that's nothing to be ashamed of. You are here, alive and in your right mind. That's something to be thankful for."

" _Is it?_  Is it really? I am one of the  _monsters_  that ravaged our people! How can I  _live_  like this, My Queen?"

The queen's warm eyes hardened and she met Jeanne's gaze with a fierce one of her own. "You are  _not_  a monster, Joan. Circumstances made you this way and it is  _not_   _your fault_."

Mia's eyes softened again to a warm chocolate and she gently placed a hand on Jeanne's arm. "Come along now; you are exhausted and in need of food and a bath. There are warm baths drawn and I will get you clean clothes."

Jeanne sighed and let herself be led out of the main foyer, down a hall and into a very familiar-looking bedroom. She blinked and looked around, a small smile forming along her lupine lips.

"Queen Mia, is this where I think it is?"

"Your old room from when you stayed here? Yes it is. I assume you remember where the washing room is and I will be back with some clothes for you."

"….Thank you, My Queen."

"Thank  _you_  for defending our country with such passion. I knew Genn chose right in betrothing Liam to you."

"What?!" Jeanne yelped but the elderly queen was already out the door. The worgen snarled into the empty air, stalked into the wash room and slammed the door after her. She took a long look in the full length mirror and sighed at her appearance, plucking at the torn, blood splattered remnants of what once was her training clothes. She quickly disrobed and bathed thoroughly in the steaming water. She was just clambering out of the cooling, blackened water when a gentle knock alerted her of the Queen's return.

"Joan, I've got some clean clothes and scrounged up some armour that should fit you. I'll help you with your hair when you're ready."

Jeanne wrapped a towel around herself and opened the door wide enough for the Queen to hand her a folded stack of clothes. "Thank you."

The worgen set the bundle down on a small wooden table and carefully sorted through the clothes. In addition to some undergarments (in which Jeanne was  _very_  thankful for. Her old ones fitted ill now and were damaged beyond repair), there was a flowy, cream-coloured men's shirt that had a very wide collar, as was the fashion now in the lower classes, a black corset that went on top of that, and dark blue-grey trousers modified to fit her new anatomy.

Jeanne dressed quickly and was out of the washroom to find Queen Mia sitting on the edge of her bed with a familiar pack in hand.

"Ammon recovered this after you… changed… the first time. He thought you'd want it back. He and Cerdic are here and aiding me in making sure the refugees are comfortable for now."

Jeanne took it and sat beside the elderly woman. She made no move to open the flap though, instead facing the Queen. "Do… do you really think I— _we_ could be…"

"Redeemed? My dear, there is nothing you or anyone else did that needs redeeming. What happened was  _not your fault_. You are simply a victim of circumstance; if anything it's mine and Genn's fault."

"Your Majesty… what?"

"Come now, we're practically family. No need for formalities when we're in private. Anyway, I knew the Wall wasn't the best solution to our problems, but Genn needed support for this idea after the Second War and who was I to deny him that. It was he that ordered that mage to create the worgen and they have been nothing but a plague from the start. I stood by and did nothing, not even raising my voice in objection or to suggest another way."

"But… you didn't  _see_  another way… Was there even another way?"

"There probably was, but it was too late by then. I also had to concentrate on educating you, your brothers, and Tess in the finer points of being nobility, remember?"

"I remember… Though I spent more time running around the manor with Cerdic's practice sword pretending to be one of the heroes of legend."

Mia chuckled at the memory. "I remember finding you and Liam practicing together in the courtyard on more than one occasion. He is very fond of you, Joan."

"… Is that why I am betrothed to him..? Even against my wishes…?"

Mia sighed and suddenly looked older than she was a moment ago. "Yes… It is a sad thing to say that us nobility have to abide by different rules than the rest of society. Sometimes it feels like we have less freedom than the poorest of poor with all the unwritten rules and expectations we have to follow.

Liam, as the Crown Prince, is expected to take a wife from the nobility. The fact that he had not yet is one of the reasons why Genn has not stepped down. You are one of the only noble daughters that is still of marrying age, unmarried, and still alive, well, alive and whole in mind.

As a noble, you are expected to take a husband and the fact that you're still unmarried was damaging to your family name. Genn was simply trying to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. He was solving the issue that Liam faced and salvaging your family name at the same time. The fact that Liam is already fond of you will only help smooth things along."

"Mia, I cannot possibly marry Liam! I have no romantic feelings towards him; He's like another brother to me!"

"Which is why Genn thought it would work so well. Do you understand me Joan?"

"…Why isn't Cerdic and Ammon getting treated like this?"

"Cerdic has been actively looking for a wife. I suppose you haven't heard, but he had just broken a courtship with Lady Crowley shortly before you came back from training. I heard it was a mutual decision."

"Lady Crowley? He was dating  _Lorna_?"

"Yes. As for Ammon… I don't know what his preferences are… I've never heard him try and woo another noblewoman..."

Jeanne snorted loudly and snickered, much to the surprise to the elderly queen. "Ammon  _does_  like women, though they are not as preferred as other men."

"Ah. That… explains a lot actually."

"I would imagine so. How's Tess been? It's been a long time since I've last talked to her."

"She's doing as well as circumstances permit. She was actually supposed to go into training before everything happened."

"Really? I've been sensing a more druidic spirit in her lately. Was she going to train with Celestine?"

"Yes and she was looking forward to training alongside you. You were her favourite playmate, you know."

"That's surprising, considering I used to drag her everywhere and get us into trouble with the nanny."

"I think that's why she liked you so much!"

Both women shared a laugh and a companionable silence followed. It was only when Jeanne couldn't hide her exhausted yawns anymore did the queen made to leave.

"Well, I should let you get some rest. I'll tell your brothers where you are so they don't worry overly much. Genn wants to see you when you wake again; I'll send someone to wake you if you aren't by dawn. It was  _wonderful_  to talk to you again, Joan."

"Thank you Mia… For everything…"

"It is nothing. Sleep well."

Jeanne watched the Queen gently shut the door and sighed deeply, looking around the dim room. Everything had stayed the same since she was a little girl and it was eerie to the druid. Her eyes skimmed the corner where she and an older Tess had played pretend with Tess's dolls. She thought she spied the hole where Ammon had first shown her his new skill with throwing knives in the opposite wall, right below the lavish painting Liam had given her for her ninth birthday.

Jeanne physically shook herself out of her memories and flopped onto the bed, slipping easily into sleep.

* * *

A loud knocking jolted Jeanne out of a deep sleep. She was on her feet and in her cat form before she realized what was going on. Grumbling, the worgen changed back and strode to the door to crack it open. On the other side was another worgen, though she did not know this one.

He nervously cleared his throat and murmured, "Lady Delroy, I was sent by Queen Mia to wake you at dawn. King Genn wants to see you up in his observatory."

"Thank you. I'll be out shortly. I know the way there."

With that, Jeanne shut the door again and turned to collect her things. She picked up her pack and was surprised when she felt that it was slightly heavier than she remember it last being. Flipping open the flap she felt her breath catch in her throat when she caught sight of supple leather in the grey pre-dawn. She gingerly pulled out what appeared to be possibly the most well-crafted set of leather armour in Gilneas, finishing with the leather 'boots' made for her new anatomy.

"Thank you Mia," she breathed, running a black claw over the decorative trim over the collar of the tunic before quickly dressing herself.

It fit her like a glove and seemed to be enchanted to enhance her abilities. Grinning at herself in the full length mirror, she brushed out her long hair and left it loose and flowing, like she normally had it, before heading out the door.

The Manor was busy with hushed activity in the waning moonlight. She ignored quiet greetings as she passed by them and up the grand staircase, intent on her destination. She slowed at the sight of the towering observatory, memories of her younger days briefly flashing before her eyes before she shook them away and proceeded up the winding stairs.

"You wished to see me, Your Majesty?" She asked when she got to the top, pausing at the sight of her brothers and her oldest friend standing beside her king.

"I did, Jeanne. It truly heartens me to see you back among us." Genn smiled up at her and gestured her closer. "I hope to call you daughter after all of this is over."

Jeanne grimaced at that, sending Ammon a sharp glare as she stepped to the King's side. "It's an… honour to be the Prince's promised."

Before anyone could say anything more the tower started trembling violently. The gathered group all scrambled for something to hold on to as the sound of rocks crashing into the ocean reached their ears. After what seemed like an eternity the shaking stopped and Genn immediately reached for the eyepiece of his telescope.

"No!" They all flinched at the pure shock and denial in the King's tone. "Look! Look at what's become of Duskhaven!"

He shoved the eyepiece in Jeanne's direction and she had to stoop slightly to see into it properly. Her jaw dropped in shock at the sight of where Duskhaven stood, or rather  _used_  to stand. The land, like before, had tumbled into the ocean, leaving nothing but a few buildings teetering on the very edge of the water. On a whim, Jeanne nudged the telescope farther to her right and gaped at the sight of Forsaken ships on the horizon.

"They're making a bigger push!" Jeanne gasped, releasing the telescope and staggering back a few steps. "They've got an airship! They've got a bloody  _airship!"_

Genn's eyes hardened at the news and a deep scowl settled on his face.

"We're vulnerable here… We've got to move everyone eastward; further inland. Jeanne, you and your brothers get everyone onto carriages before it's too late. I pray we are not…"

Jeanne, Ammon, and Cerdic all galvanized into motion. Cerdic helped a stunned Tess down the steps first while Jeanne and Ammon escorted the King down after, finding that Cerdic started issuing orders for another evacuation. The next hour was filled with hastily strapping belongings to the carriages, ushering the many dozens of frightened citizens into them and sending them off. Before they knew it, their small group and a handful of citizens were left. Genn stopped Jeanne and Ammon on their way to strap some of the citizen's belongings to the second to last carriage.

"I need you two to go with Tess and Mia on this carriage. Liam, Cerdic, Lady Crowley and Miss. Armstead are bringing up the rear, leaving the rest of the citizens in the middle."

"Got it. How will you-?"

"Don't worry about me, Jeanne. I will get there. Now go!"

The two bowed deeply and hurried off to complete their task. Ammon hopped up beside the driver without a word, leaving Jeanne to duck into the carriage. Mia and Tess were already in there and, with a hurried knock on the roof, they were off down the cobbled path.

* * *

_CRASH!_

Jeanne jolted and twisted around at the sound, which had come from behind them, and gaped at the sight of a broken carriage on the bottom of the cliff it had just been on. Twisting to look out the other window she spotted the culprits; massive ogres were lobbing boulders at anything that passed by them on the cliff side. As she watched, the carriage behind the last, the one that Liam and Cerdic rode in, wheeled into sight. An ogre spotted them and, his face twisting into one of morbid pleasure, lobbed a boulder at them.

_"No!"_

Jeanne watched in horror as the rock smashed into the back half of the vehicle and caused it to crash onto its side. The ogres laughed stupidly and retreated when nothing else came over the cliff. Jeanne was halfway out of her seat, intent on leaping from the carriage to aid the survivors when two pairs of arms held her back.

"Joan!"

"Sit down! There's nothing we can do to help them!"

Jeanne briefly entertained the thought of shaking them off and jumping anyway before banishing it completely. Genn had ordered her to see his wife and daughter to safety and that takes precedence over anything else. She reluctantly took her seat, much to Mia and Tess's relief, and tried to focus on anything but her older brother.

_You better be alright, dammit. I'll never forgive you if you die on me now, Cerd._

* * *

"Jeanne, Cerdic will be alright."

Jeanne flicked her ear to indicate that she had heard Ammon as she helped the queen out of the carriage. She habitually growled when Ammon grabbed her arm and wheeled her around to face him, a stern look on his face.

"He  _will_. He's just as stubborn as you. However, we've got a  _job_  to do here. You can _not_  shut everyone out when we have to secure the royal family's safety. The King personally gave us this task knowing we will do whatever it takes to see it done and  _damn it_   _I_   _will not_   _fail this_! Not when we've lost so much! You hear me Jeanne?"

Jeanne grumbled, suddenly very thankful that she could not blush with mortification, and pulled away from her twin. She turned to the two royals, who were patiently waiting to the side for them and gestured them inside the inn. The twins followed them in, ordered a room for the royals and escorted them into it, where they made sure they were comfortable. Jeanne was in the middle of lighting the small wood stove to get some heat into the room when a soft hand on her elbow startled her. She glanced up and found that Tess was the one at her elbow, a drawn look of worry on her face.

"T-They will be alright, Joanie," the raven-haired princess whispered, offering her a small smile of encouragement, "They're both as stubborn as mules and twice as intelligent. I bet they're already putting one of their ridiculous plans into action."

Jeanne blinked and reluctantly bobbed her head in agreement, worry still pinching her heart. Tess, placated for now, simply patted her elbow. "Now, why don't you make yourself useful in some way out in town? Ammon is more than enough of a guard."

"…Alright… That okay with you Ammon?"

Ammon waved his hand in dismissal. "Yeah, yeah. We don't need an overgrown dog brooding and grumping at us all day long. Go on."

That earned him a short, irritated growl and he smirked in triumph. Jeanne glared at him for a moment longer before snorting and stalking out the door.

"Joan!" A very familiar voice called out to her and the worgen couldn't help but smile as she pivoted to face her speaker.

"Celestine! I never thought I'd see you again!"

"I can't believe you're alive!" The two women shared a short hug. Jeanne pulled away first and stared down at her teacher with a fondness that she rarely showed.

"It takes more than a little worgen invasion to kill me. You should know that by now!"

The older druid shook her head and sighed, equal parts exasperated and amused. "Be as it may, I was still very worried that you'd never regain your mind. Are you ready for further training? I believe you were still mastering your Moonfire spell…"

A slightly amused grin took its place on Jeanne's lips as she said, "Actually… I recently discovered that I can transform into a cat… and a bear. Also, are plants  _supposed_  to talk to you? Or am I going mad?"

Celestine's eyes widened almost comically. "You have your cat and bear form already? Communicating with nature is a high level skill that fully realized druids have… And you tell me you've heard them  _speak_  to you? Are you sure you didn't ask them to speak to you?"

Jeanne thought for a moment. "Well, I was simply thanking them for aiding me. I didn't expect them to say anything  _back_!"

"Aiding you how?"

"I…I have found that if I get… well… irritated or angry… that they often respond to my mood… and attack whomever is… threatening me…"

"Really?" Celestine gave her a look filled with awe and respect. "Jeanne Delroy, I do believe that you need a trainer more experienced and powerful than I to reach your full potential."

"What? But you are  _the_ most powerful harvest-witch in Gilneas! If you can't train me then no one else can!"

Celestine gave her a rather mysterious smile and patted her arm gently. "We are called  _Druids_ , Joan. It's high time we start calling ourselves by the proper title. What you say is true; I  _am_  the most powerful trained druid in Gilneas. However, you may get your answer soon enough, young druid.

"Now, I understand that you are here to help, yes? There is one problem that needs to be taken care of that you can assist in."

Jeanne opened her mouth to inquire exactly what that was when a loud skittering-screech was heard close by. Her mouth fell open in horror as the mission became crystal clear to her.

"No…."

Celestine giggled. "Yes! Care to clear out some spiders for us?"


	12. Into the Blackwald

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeanne gets a vision in her sleep and leads herself and Cerdic to possible salvation of their humanity. Before it's too late.

"There is no bloody way that I'm going to take out the bloody Spider Queen by myself! Get some other tosser to do it! I've had quite enough of bleeding spiders for a bloody lifetime!"

"Now Jeanne…"

"Don't you 'now Jeanne' me! I was sent here to help protect the Queen and Princess!"

"What do you _think_ you're doing, idiot? Taking her out _is_ protecting them from spider attacks. Since you're being such a bleeding ninny about this, I'll go with you. Queen Mia said that I could take time off and be of some help."

"See? You don't need to go by yourself Jeanne."

"… Fine! But I'll never forgive the pair of you if I get eaten by the bloody spider!"

* * *

"Alright… Maybe that _was_ as bad as you thought…"

"I was right about being freaking terrified of the spider! That bloody thing was bigger than a bleeding _house_! How does a bloody bug even _get_ that bloody big?!"

"Stuff it, I know… I was the one that had to take the aggro off you!"

"Well, well, the twins at it again. I can't say that I expected any less from my little siblings."

_"Cerd?!"_

Both Jeanne and Ammon looked up and found a familiar face grinning at them, humour clear in his green eyes. As one, both the rogue and the druid launched themselves at the warrior and entrapped them in their embrace.

"Well, this wasn't the reaction I was expecting," Cerdic rumbled on a laugh, wrapping his arms around his family and squeezed, "though I'm not about to complain."

"Shut it, git," Ammon snapped, breaking the embrace and punching the older man's arm, "You had us worried, you bloody prat!"

"Well, I really couldn't help that. Not my fault an ogre decided to use us at target practice."

Jeanne finally released her older brother and subtly released a shaky, relieved breath. Hearing a slight crinkling, the druid glanced down and was perplexed by the many pages of parchment sticking out of her brother's hand.

"Cerd, what are those to?"

"Oh!" Cerdic jumped, as if he had forgotten all about them and started towards the inn. "Lorna had asked me to collect these pages laying around all over the place while you two dealt with the spiders. Apparently it's to this bloke's diary and it's got her interested into what happened to everyone here."

"Ah." Jeanne and Ammon shared a look behind Cerdic's back as he bound eagerly towards the gun-wielding noblewoman. She gave him a smile and accepted the stack of parchment. She briefly flipped through the stack and nodded in approval.

"You have my thanks, Cerdic. I'll try and make sense of what we have with what little time we have here." A thoughtful look crossed her face as she sat at a nearby table. "Maybe… Maybe I can figure out where my father went… Or if he's even still alive…"

Cerdic, not knowing what to say to that, bowed lowly to her and retreated back to his siblings. Wordlessly, Ammon started up the steps and they followed, eventually crowding into the royal's small inn room. The moment Cerdic walked in Tess cried out in relief and enthusiastically embraced him.

"Cerdic! I was so worried about you and Liam! How is he? Is he here?"

The worgen sheepishly returned the embrace. "He's perfectly fine, Princess. A little banged up from the bumpy ride, but fine. He sent me on ahead to meet with the others. I honestly don't know where he had ran off to."

Worry pinched both the Princess's and the Queen's faces once again as they took in the news. The Queen glanced out the window and frowned at the swiftly setting sun, a deep sigh escaping her lips.

"Well, I suppose we will have to wait until morning to find out what happened to Liam. I don't recall you three booking a room… Why don't you three sleep in here, with us?"

Jeanne glanced about the small room, noting the way everyone scrunched up to allow moving room. "Erm… Don't think there's enough space for that, your Majesty."

"Well, why don't we have shifts where one of us is awake and standing outside the door at all time," Ammon suggested, "That way there is more room in here for everyone to sleep and the Queen's and Princess's safety is ensured."

Jeanne and Cerdic glanced at each other and nodded in agreement. "I think that works out just fine. Who's taking first shift?"

Cerdic glanced around the room and shuffled towards the door. "I will. I am the one taking up the most space after all. Jeanne will take the next shift around midnight."

"Alright. Night Cerd."

He gave them a parting smile before gently closing the door after him. The others swiftly readied for bed, Jeanne curling up in front of the door and Ammon spreading out under the window, and the lanterns were extinguished shortly after the sun had sunk behind the horizon. Jeanne took one last survey of the quiet room before laying her head on her pack and allowed sleep to take her.

* * *

She was running through the trees. Flashes of pale bark, contrasting starkly with her dark surroundings, she saw whizz by from the corners of her eyes. A joy unlike any she has experienced since she had woken up filled her to the brim of her being. This was freedom; the feeling that only comes from having no responsibilities, no duty to uphold.

Jeanne paused on a rocky outcropping and howled her joy to the heavens, unable to contain such happiness any longer. An answering call echoed her and, instead of feeling threatened by it, she felt even more at peace at the sound. The worgen gallivanted back into motion, following the dying echoes of the call until she found herself before a massive tree unlike any she has seen before.

She slowed as she approached the tree, eventually walking underneath its raised roots. The female worgen stopped before a bright beam of moonlight shining in through a gap in the roots. A few moments passed and a glowing figure materialized inside that moonbeam, growing clearer until the form of a massive wolf could be made out.

"You have answered my call," it rumbled, the baritone voice establishing that this was a he, "You and I have much to discuss, young worgen."

"Why do you call me here, Great Wolf?" Jeanne heard herself ask, making herself comfortable on the long, dewy grasses growing at her feet.

The wolf shook his great white pelt and answered, "I count you as one of my children, blessed with my spirit and tenacity—"

An enraged snarl erupted from the worgen and she flew back to her feet. " _Blessed?!_ Is that what you call this—this _monstrosity_?! I am _cursed_ to live like this for the rest of my life! How dare you-!"

"Peace, young druid," A new, stern voice placated gently and she wheeled around to face the newcomer. Her snarl abruptly cut off as she beheld the new arrival, instantly recognizing him from drawings in her textbooks.

The newcomer regarded her with a stern look on his face, contrasting starkly with the air of peace surrounding him. He slowly crossed the threshold, giving the worgen a clear view of his softly glowing elk/humanoid body as he took his place beside the luminescent white wolf.

"You recognize me." The statement was not a question but she dipped her head in answer anyway. "You have been trained well, young druid. However, not well enough to be able to walk the path laid before you.

You have been blessed to possess a great deal of power. I came to be aware of your natural affinity to druidism the moment you were able to control the force of life around you in your youth. I do not know why you were given this power. I only know that you need the proper teacher to teach you how to hone your raw power into ability, lest it kill you."

Jeanne tilted her head in confusion. "I-I don't understand… Who else can teach me what I need to know...?"

Cenarius gestured her forward with his gnarled bark-like hand and she did so. He gently pressed the pad of his index to her forehead and a vision manifested itself in her mind.

_"You and your people will be forced to seek help from across the ocean."_

Jeanne was taken from the massive tree in the middle of the Blackwald back up the path she came, through Stormglen and the cemetery she knew as Aldric's Repose. The vision sped past Keel Harbor and over the vast expanse of ocean. It slowed as it neared a great tree, many, many times more massive than the one she was standing under.

_"My apprentice resides on the World Tree, Teldrassil. Seek him and tell him of this meeting. He will give you the instruction you need."_

The vision briefly showed a man that shared some of Cenarius's features, most notably his antlers. It froze on his face before fading as Cenarius withdrew his hand.

Jeanne blinked to clear her vision and shook her head. The demigod took a few steps back, letting the Wolf God speak his peace to the worgen.

"As for the matter of regaining your humanity," he paused to give her a searching look. She froze, ears perked in interest and hope sparked in her chest. "Follow the path into the place you call the Blackwald. There you will find this tree. You will find what you seek there. Take your brother along with you; he needs this as much as you do."

Jeanne didn't have time to nod her assent when the luminescent wolf tilted his head back and howled. The sound rang in her ears and embedded itself into her memory. It continued to ring in her head even as she jolted awake and scrambled to her paws.

Jeanne panted like she had ran over the entirety of Gilneas and tears of hope stung her eyes. She blinked them away and looked around the dark room, noting with relief that her companions still slumbered. The worgen carefully clambered to her feet and opened the door as quietly as possible, startling Cerdic when she slipped out with him and shut the door behind her.

"What is it Joan? Couldn't sleep?"

"Cerdic," she started, hope suffusing her voice, "We need to go into the Blackwald. Now."

Cerdic looked down at her like she had suddenly sprouted a second head. "The Blackwald? Why? There's nothing there but spiders and feral worgen."

"You're wrong. I don't know why or how, but I had a dream and—"

"Light help me… You need more sleep. Go back to bed."

"Damn it Cerdic! This is important! You know I wouldn't argue this if it wasn't!"

Cerdic regarded her in the silence that followed, taking note of her wide eyes and completely calm, if slightly irritated, demeanor. "Can't this wait until morning?"

"No!"

Heaving a deep sigh, Cerdic eyed her with no small amount trepidation. "Alright. Wake Ammon to take over watch."

Not needing to be told twice, Jeanne cracked the door open and snuck inside again. She made her way to her twin with a stealth she knew he'd be proud of and touched his shoulder. He bolted up, throwing knives already between his fingers, and looked about wildly. He exhaled in relief when his eyes landed on Jeanne and he lowered the knives slightly.

"What's wrong Joan? Is Cerdic okay?"

Jeanne held her hand up to silence her twin. It was then that he could see the hope lighting her eyes and, testing on the soul bond he shared with her, felt her excitement brimming underneath her skin.

"Ammon, we need you to take over watch."

"Wh-?"

"Cerdic and I are going into the Blackwald." Jeanne held her finger up before he could interrupt. "No, we haven't gone completely bonkers. I need you to trust me on this, my twin. I have a good feeling about this, I really do."

Ammon scrutinized her, much like Cerdic had a few moments earlier, eventually nodding his assent. "Fine. When should I expect you two back?"

"I… dunno… But I promise you that we will return."

"I'll hold you to that promise, my twin. Love you, Joanie."

"Love you Ammie."

With that, Jeanne turned and, with as much stealth she came in with, exited the room, not forgetting her pack discarded on the floor.

"Alright Cerd. Let's go."

"Are you sure this is the right way?"

Jeanne threw a glare over her shoulder as she and Cerdic trotted threw the underbrush of the Blackwald. She had insisted that they don't take the path through, as she was getting really weird feelings from the idea, and instead took them through the untrodden wilderness. He watched her pause to take a deep draw from the air and to glance around at the surroundings.

"Let's see… there's that decrepit farm to the west and we're near that spider nest…"

Jeanne pondered for a few more moments before deciding on a course. She led them towards the ruins of the farm and circled around it, finding themselves back at the path in the middle of the forest.

"Alright, I'm pretty damn sure we're lost! Let's go back and forget this ever happened!"

A short growl of irritation was all Cerdic got and he responded with his own heavy growl. Jeanne ignored him and surveyed her surroundings once again, ears perking as things finally looked more familiar.

"Come on!" Jeanne huffed, taking off down the path. Cerdic swore under his breath and leapt to pursue her.

Jeanne and Cerdic ran for a minute or two longer before she stopped so suddenly Cerdic had to leap off to the side to avoid crashing into her. He spun around to give her a good tongue-lashing, hesitating when he saw that she was looking past him with wide eyes. He looked to his right and he felt his jaw drop at the sight before him.

Down lower in the valley sat a massive tree unlike anything he had seen before. Waterfalls of blue magic flowed down the dark brown bark and pooled at the roots. The roots themselves were massive, holding the entire tree above the ground to create an open structure, much like a den. The gaps in between the roots acted as doorways and dark figures could be seen moving within. A soft glow came spilling from within, just strong enough to see in the dark, gloomy forest.

"Well," Cerdic heard himself mutter, awestricken, "I suppose _that_ is what you wanted to show me."

"Yes." Jeanne shook herself and started down the path. Cerdic stared after her for a moment before following, unable to shake the feeling that everything was, once again, going to change.

They both cautiously approached the tree, wary of the scents of many different worgen in one place, when a massive grey worgen approached them. Even Cerdic, who was a hefty worgen himself, felt intimidated by this one's mass. The way this worgen moved clicked in Cerdic's head as he looked him up and down, eyes eventually landing on his eyepatch.

"Crowley?!" Cerdic gasped in complete disbelief, standing on his own hind legs to examine him better. "You're alive?"

An amused chuckle was his answer and Crowley placed a hand on his shoulder. "I am, Delroy. I'm glad to see you and your sister alive and well."

"You can say that." Jeanne muttered, ears flattening at the presence of so many other worgen. "We were sent here. I dunno why. What's so special about this place?"

"You saw Goldrinn?" A new, melodious voice asked and they turned towards the speaker. Jeanne and Cerdic were both taken aback at the sight of a slender figure quickly striding towards them. The dim light showed that the female had a violet colouring and light green hair, the same shade as moss on a tree.

"I am Vassandra Stormclaw, a Night Elf," the woman murmured, stopping in front of them, "My companions and I are here to aid those who possess the Curse. You said you were sent here, young worgen. By the Great Wolf spirit?"

"Yes... and—" Jeanne cut herself off as the elf reached out and placed a gentle hand on her forehead. Jeanne's fur bristled at the contact and she made to pull away. The elf withdrew her hand and stared, wide-eyed, at the druid.

"Not only have you had contact with Goldrinn," she murmured in awe, "But you have Cenarius's touch upon you."

The elf's awestruck tone carried throughout the hollow, drawing her two male companions out from the shadows. Jeanne flattened her ears at all the attention and uncomfortably shifted on her feet.

"So, Crowley," Cerdic drawled into the silence, startling many, "Anything that we need to do here? Anyone that needs to be taken care of?"

"Actually," Crowley answered, glancing out from between the roots, "There are pressing matters that need to be attended to.

"The Night Elves were kind enough to teach us much about who we are and where we came from. Thanks to them… thanks to this place, Tal'doren… we're no longer mere beasts controlled by our rage and instincts. We have truly regained our free will…"

"What?!" Jeanne interjected, her ears perking in both interest and hope, "How?"

Cerdic glared at her until she quieted. Crowley's lips twitched into a faint smile and continued, as if nothing has happened.

"Sylvanas isn't here for land alone. She's looking very desperately for a very powerful artifact; one capable of spreading the Curse to all of humanity… Her banshees are coming very close to finding it and we cannot let that happen."

"Kill the ghosties, got it," Cerdic bowed lowly and bounded out of the hollow without another word. Jeanne started after him but was stopped by Vassandra's melodious voice.

"Young druid, we have a boon to ask of you." Jeanne heaved a sigh and turned back to the elf, ears cocked in inquiry.

Vassandra glanced out at the dim forest before returning her attention on the worgen in front of her. "There is a leaf that grows only in Tal'doren's vicinity and is called Moonleaf. I need you to collect some for the ceremony that will restore balance to your people."

"Yes ma'am." Jeanne bowed and eagerly bound out of the hollow. At this point she'd do anything to get her humanity back. A simple herb gathering was all that stood between her and her humanity and she couldn't be more eager.

However, the young druid didn't expect to run headfirst into a banshee as soon as she got into the Blackwald's forest. Jeanne yelped in surprise and rolled past her and into a battle stance. With an angry cry, the banshee shot off a dark bolt of magic which narrowly missed the druid. Jeanne shot off a cast of her own, quickly followed by a blast of lunar flames. The banshee shrieked as she finally died a true death, vanishing into the very air and leaving only her metal bracers strewn on the ground.

Jeanne huffed and wandered over to the base of a tree, quickly identifying the Moonleaf plant nestled at the base of a Silverleaf plant. She carefully brushed the Silverleaf aside and collected the velvety Moonleaf, taking only enough for a small handful; she didn't want to kill the poor plant.

Straightening, she glanced around the forest and thought she spied another plant nestled by a large protruding root. As she started towards the tree, she heard the sounds of her brother gleefully killing banshees of his own. Shaking her head, she swiftly collected enough for a large handful, which she carefully stowed away in one of her smaller bags lining her belt, and started back to Tal'doren. She bumped into Cerdic on the way back, who had a rather satisfied grin on his face.

"Ran out of banshees," he explained, wincing as he took a step with his left leg, "Bloody bitches hit hard though."

"You moron." Jeanne waved a hand and let her feeble healing magic wash over him. His stride smoothed out some and he shot her a thankful grin. They arrived to a flurry of activity and Crowley intercepted them with a grim look.

"Sylvanas's pets found it! They found the Scythe of Elune, the artifact that we'd been trying hard to keep secret!"

Jeanne felt the blood drain from her face. She had read about it in her studies and knew it to be very powerful.

"When do we move to reclaim it?" Cerdic asked, always the practical one. Crowley glanced back at a worgen, who nodded his head at the silent question.

"Now." Crowley drew out a polished horn inlayed with silver. "Blow this horn when you are in position at Woods' End Cabin. Tobias and his strike team will distract them while one of you retrieves it. All of humanity is counting on you."

Cerdic accepted the horn and looked around at the assembled pack of worgen. "Are we all ready to go?"

"We will go on ahead and get into position, Lord Delroy," a worgen, probably Tobias, stated, nodding to the pack, "Wait a few minutes before you follow."

Unbidden, the worgen bound out of the hollow and blended into the mists and shadows. Jeanne startled when a hand appeared on her arm. She wheeled around to see that it was only the Night Elf, Vassandra.

"Do you have the Moonleaf, young druid?" Her softly glowing eyes looked into her own imploringly, relaxing when the worgen nodded.

"Here." Jeanne opened her pack and carefully scooped out the leaves, handing them over to the grateful elf.

"Thank you. We will prepare while you are away." With that, the elf spun on her heel and strode back to her companions.

"Come Joan." Cerdic waited until she was beside him before starting into the forest, moving towards their target with near silent speed.


	13. Conquering the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The siblings aid in retrieving the Scythe of Elune from the Forsaken's clutches. When they return, they have to face their biggest obstacle yet: the beast within.

"Are we ready?" Cerdic whispered to Jeanne. The siblings were currently crouched behind the bushes on the outskirts of the cabin. They discovered that the cabin was absolutely crawling with Forsaken, more elves that happened to be undead and under Sylvanas's command. Jeanne took a deep breath and shifted into her cat form, giving her brother a nod when she was settled.

Cerdic unhooked the horn from his belt and blew into it. A long clear note sang through the air and gave the Forsaken pause, shuffling to ready their bows. They didn't get much chance to prepare as a massive wave of worgen dropped from the trees and charged towards them. Shouts of surprise and battle followed as both sides hit each other, punctuated by yips and snarls from the worgen. Cerdic and Jeanne waited until the strike team had hit before charging in themselves. They snuck in mostly unnoticed, the one ranger that had spotted them was quickly silenced by Jeanne's teeth.

Cerdic ran into the small cabin while they were distracted, scooped up a chest with strange markings on it, and ran back out. Jeanne was hot on his tail as soon as he stepped out, running beside him as they quickly made their retreat.

Tobias saw them escaping and yelled out, "Fall back! Retreat into the forest! Fall back!"

They heard their fellow worgen disengage and pound along after them. The fastest of them managed to catch up to them by the time they reached Tal'doren. Cerdic bound up to Crowley and handed the small chest to him. Crowley then cautiously lifted the lid and his face morphed into one of pure relief.

"I knew you two could do it. Nothing can get past your blood. On the behalf of all of humanity, thank you."

Crowley drew in the damp air and snorted, a look of concern crossing his lupine face. He turned his head towards the gathered druids and gave them a significant look, the three elves nodding their heads in return.

"This… alchemy holding the beast at bay will not hold for much longer. The elves here have told that the first worgen were Night Elf druids. They had abandoned the balance that their brethren embraced and let the beast take over their minds. It is fitting, indeed, that their people be the ones that deliver us from the same fate."

Crowley looked between the siblings, a grim look upon his face. "Go and follow their instructions. The path ahead is not an easy one and fraught with danger. More than one worgen went mad trying to regain what was lost to them."

Cerdic and Jeanne nodded and stepped towards the three elves, each standing at a well of softly glowing water. Vassandra stepped forward and looked between the two siblings, her gaze finally settling on Cerdic.

"You will go through the ceremony first, young warrior." The female druid extended her palm to him, fingers uncurling to reveal one of the moonleaves Jeanne had collected earlier. "Eat this. It will help you prepare for the ceremony."

Cerdic took it and, after giving it a cautious sniff, popped it into his mouth and chewed. He was expecting a strong, bitter taste and was pleasantly surprised at the soft, soothing texture it possessed. Vassandra nodded in satisfaction once he swallowed the leaf and gestured to the leftmost well.

"Now you must drink from each of the wells."

Cerdic blinked in surprise but proceeded, stopping before the well and looked in awe into the softly glowing liquid inside.

"I am Talran of the Wild," the druid intoned, handing the worgen a mug filled with the liquid, "and this is the Well of Tranquility. What you drink now will help you rekindle the peace and joy lost in the stream of life."

Cerdic took it and was momentarily entranced by the way it swirled softly in the mug before calmly swallowing it. Talran bowed his head momentarily and gestured to the next well that was guarded by Vassandra. The worgen followed his finger and stood in front of the she-elf, separated only by the well. She smiled briefly at him and handed him a similar mug.

"This is the Well of Balance. What you drink will keep your mind and body as one, enabling you to stand with both parts unified for the struggle you take on."

Cerdic noticed that he felt relatively the same as before as he drank the contents and was pointed towards the third and final well. The final druid looked him up and down before speaking.

"I am Lyros Swiftwind and this is the Well of Fury. What you drink will enhance the first two mugs you took and also build within you the strength you need to confront and, hopefully, command that which most risks this ritual ending in failure."

Cerdic gave him a puzzled look but, when Lyros refused to explain further, shrugged and drank it.

The druid nodded to someone behind him and spoke. "Darius Crowley, you know what needs to be done."

Cerdic jumped as he felt gentle claws on his shoulder. He allowed himself to be steered away from the well and towards the clearing in the center of the wells. He suddenly felt as if all his senses were on overdrive. He could feel the rush of air ruffling his fur, the texture of the earth beneath his paws, the dampness of the air weighing down upon them as Crowley bade him to sit, the leader of this pack joining him a moment later.

"Close your eyes," Crowley rumbled and Cerdic immediately did so, feeling his senses heighten further. He could feel everyone's eyes, including his sister's worried stare, trained upon him. "Focus. The water from the wells will aid, but you are the one who must find where to begin. For that, you must look into your memories."

"For what, exactly?"

"For those points most relevant to your life." Crowley's voice sounded softer, as if he was speaking through a dense fog. "Seek for the choices you made because of them, for good or ill. Start with the oldest you can recall. Do more than just remember them. Relive them. Be aware why you did what you did and what it means to you."

Though still confused, Cerdic nodded and hesitantly reached for the memories that were the dimmest in his mind.

He was a small boy again. A sense of peace, something he hadn't felt in a long, _long_ time, draped over him and he took a moment to revel in that feeling. His vision was suddenly dominated by the image of his father, a stern-looking, bear of a man that he has been told that he takes after. His father's face cracked into a wide smile as he led Cerdic along by a hand towards the massive merchant ship rocking in the bay. His father's voice, gruff but gentle, soothed him as he was shown the various workings of the ship. The private moment lasted a few moments more before whirling away and another memory took its place.

This one he was a little older and looking down upon a crib, one of two in his parents' room. Inside was a teeny-tiny bundle of human with a shock of bright red hair. He felt a strong sense of warmth bloom in his chest, one that he later identified to be brotherly love, as his baby sister opened her bright green eyes to stare up at him. A smile crawled onto his face as he reached a hand, having to stand on his tip-toes to reach properly, and brushed a gentle hand across her velvety cheek.

"Don't worry, little Joanie," he heard himself whisper to her, his voice sounding impossibly young, "I'll do everything I can to keep you safe."

Cerdic found it hard to breathe around the knot in his chest as he watched himself stand back and make his way towards the second crib beside that. He heard himself repeat his promise, one made out of love for the helpless children that he still holds close to his heart.

Once again the memory was whirled away to show a scene that he struggled to keep away, not wanting to relive it. He was much older now, a man just past boyhood and freshly enrolled as a guard-in-training, when a grim-faced Genn Greymane quietly pulled him aside. The king's words were spoken softly, just above a murmur, but Cerdic heard them clearer than if he had yelled them.

"Your father is dead. The pox took him."

That was the moment, he knew, that his life had changed and he already felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He realized his king was still speaking and he forced himself through the panic of his thoughts to listen.

"—will tell your siblings if you wish."

"No!" Cerdic shook his head and focused on calming himself. "No. T-they should hear i-it from m-me, if that's alright, Your Majesty."

The memory blurred slightly as if it was fast-forwarding through that time and refocused on the moment he told his beloved siblings the news.

Jeanne's screams of denial and grief hurt him to this day, nearly as much as they did then. He could feel the weight of her head as she buried her face into his broad shoulder and the cold seeping into his knees from the stone floor when they had sunk down onto it. He could feel the tears track down his cheeks, warm and salty, as his composure broke with Ammon's embrace around the both of them; their suddenly much smaller family.

The memory blurred again and suddenly he was standing at a pair of freshly covered plots, grief and dread in his heart. Beside him Jeanne stood, tears still cascading silently down her face, and beside her was Ammon, his face blank with shock. The siblings had not expected to bury both of their parents; their mother had taken her life in grief after she had learned her husband was gone. The strain of knowing that they were _it_ showed on each of their faces. He startled when he felt a soft brush on the back of his hand but, after a quick glance down, took Jeanne's hand in his own and squeezed softly.

Cerdic let the memory go and he weighed each of the memories. Through them all he realized that they had a common theme: love. He had loved his father dearly, especially when he was learning from him, he vowed to protect his siblings out of that same love and, because of the love for his parents, he had taken their loss hard. Over the years he'd blamed himself for not taking action when he should've and vice versa. However, looking back on these memories, he realized that he was only human, so to speak, and that he cannot foresee the future. His parents, his siblings never loved him any less for being the flawed man he is.

 _Tranquility_ …

The voice startled him and he barely could keep from his eyes from flying open; the voice sounded like a combination of both his parents' and his own as a child. He felt at peace, like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he sought out another memory.

Another formed and he recognized it as the moment he had asked Lorna Crowley to officially court her. The young warrior, promoted to a city guard at the time and with the overbearing title of _Baron_ , had been looking into which noble ladies to begin a courtship with. There were only two women he had been interested in from the beginning and he thought it to pretentious of him to ask the King of Gilneas for permission to court his only daughter. Though older than him by a handful of years, she had accepted and they had begun their courtship.

He watched and relived those months of escorted outings and dinners, making polite talk to try and get to know one another. It was bittersweet; he could feel the admiration for the spunky young woman grow, and yet at the same time the feeling of discontent grew. He knew, after half a year, that she was not the right choice of spouse for him. Cerdic watched the final moment between him and Lorna, feeling the guilt and then relief after she told him that the feelings were mutual. He felt her give him a chaste kiss on the cheek, heard her tell him that she'll be there for him if he needs her, and watched her leave with Gwen Armstead, her escort for the day.

The memory faded and he was left to reflect on what those memories meant to him. Those moments with Lorna, he realized, were some of the happiest moments he had since his parent's passing. They were his light in a dark, sad time, fleeting as they were. Grief and healing. Guilt and relief. Sorrow and happiness. They were both emotions that humans experience and each has its own counter; its own balancing force. A saying that his mother used to say came back to Cerdic in that moment that helped him understand.

_"You cannot see the stars without the night."_

_Balance_. The voice itself did not startle him as much as before. He was startled at the fact that it was spoken by a combination of his voice and Lorna's. For the first time in his life he felt... whole. Like he was finally in balance with himself.

With a fortifying breath, Cerdic let his mind drift, letting it pluck a memory at random. The one that materialized, however, he tried to shy away from, hot shame washing over him.

His father's study came into focus, the one he remembers in their old mansion in the Northern Headlands. However, unlike in his previous memories, the room was lit by a single candle and didn't contain his father. Instead it contained him and a fair share of wine bottles scattered about, not including the one in his fist. He sat, slumped in his father's old chair facing the large family painting his father had commissioned years ago. He took another long drag from the bottle, slammed it down on the worn desk, and squinted up at the painting.

"WHY?!" Cerdic's own voice, slurred with alcohol, startled him and he watched himself slam a fist onto the desk. "Why d-didya ha-have t'die?! You 'band-bandoned me! I don-don' wan' these r-r-hic-respon'bilities. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THERE FOR ME!"

Cerdic watched as his drunken self chuck his bottle of wine at the painting, shattering it on the wall below it. He felt the white-hot rage, the pure grief, and a nearly overwhelming fear crash in his heart as he watched himself shove away from the desk and stumble towards the door. That memory was whisked away only to be replaced by another, more recent one.

"I'll never figure out why the King give you back the townhouse. He reclaimed it after Papa died." That muttered comment made his heart sink and he felt the need to defend himself.

"Being the admiral of his personal navy helps things."

"A title you only inherited. Papa was the one who earned it. Besides, the King doesn't really have a navy anymore."

That comment stung like an open wound being doused in alcohol. He _knew_ he hadn't earned it in the slightest and that weighed on him heavily. He felt anger at his sister for hurting him like this but managed to tramp down most of his emotions.

"That may be. But he isn't here now. I am the eldest so it is fitting that it goes to me."

"Though I was always the better sailor."

That snide comment, true as it was, finally snapped the dam on his temper and his rage spun him around to face his sister.

"You are a woman! It is not acceptable for you to run off like a wild harpy and do as you please!"

He knew, in this moment, that he was grasping at straws. Many noble women fought and did things for themselves, often unescorted. In that moment he needed some way to control her, some way to put her back into place as _his baby sister_ instead of the _beautiful young woman_ she had grown into. As soon as he uttered those words, in the heat of anger, he knew she wasn't going to let it go.

"Says who? This bleeding society that cares more for fashion and appearances than the happiness of its people?! That only wants to keep us women chained to the notion that we are nothing but helpless, weak playthings?"

The memory faded, though not the emotions. Anger, still coursed through his body like a white hot flame searing his very bones. In that moment he realized that this anger, this _shame_ was the very forces that alienated his family from him. Ammon wanted nothing to do with him and Jeanne, his dear little sister, voiced the very thoughts that plagued him. He realized that his feeling of inadequacy, and his consequent overbearing habit and spontaneous fits of temper, was what drove the only family he had left away.

He turned on the anger, the fury, and fought to control it. He held tight to it, much like the wheel on a ship caught in a vicious storm. He held tight and fought for control on the ocean of his anger, his shame, trying to master it. He realized that his anger had been a way to protect himself and it needed another purpose. The images of his siblings and himself as young children, then as young adults formed and he suddenly knew what must be done. He needed this anger to be honed, not to hurt his family like it had been, but to _protect_ them, like he promised so long ago. He would channel this anger as a force for his family's enemies to batter against instead of against _them,_ only a force of defense and good.

He felt his anger break and subside to his will. Now it will serve Cerdic as a force of defense and not shield him from his true emotions.

 _Tranquility… Balance… Fury…_ He recognized this voice as his own and of another that he did not, though it felt as if he should.

_The beast must be conquered so that the man may rise… The rage must be the servant to the man to be… complete…_

He felt his fury rise again, but only at his direction. It was now tied to his strength, strength he will use in defense of his family. He reveled in it, feeling not only the love of his brother and sister, but of both his parents as he tested it. It was now a weapon, honed and sharp, to be used and not as a means to hurt those he holds closest.

He felt a shift in the very depths of his being and he jolted out of the trance and onto his forearms. He groaned, sounding oddly high, as a bolt of ice shot through his veins and warmth replace it. He dimly heard howls from the worgen pack around him as he focused on regaining his breath. Cerdic's vision regained its focus and a jolt of shock and joy shot through his being.

His forearms were _human_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, first of all, the details of the ritual is heavily inspired by the one written in Wolfheart by Richard A. Knaak. If you haven't read it already, then I recommend doing so. It's a good story. I felt that the standard 'drink from these wells and POOF! human again' from the quest was lacking.
> 
> Second is that, though there's not much actual action, I feel this is an important chapter. I chose to do this from Cerdic's perspective because I felt that Jeanne had been getting much of the spotlight and there hasn't been enough focus on the other siblings. Also, Cerdic needed a way to show his character and his motives and this was the perfect area to do that. He needs some love!
> 
> Thank you for reading this far! Leave a comment and kudos!


	14. Sniffing Out the Traitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Jeanne's turn to undertake the ritual and she's in for a fight. A huge secret is revealed and now Cerdic and Jeanne have to pull a coup to rescue their King.

Tears blurred his vision for a moment as he stared at the pale length of his arms, the way his fingers -all _five_ of them- curled into the sparse grass, and the feel of cold seeping through his flesh. A relieved laugh escaped him as he crossed his eyes to get a look at his so very human nose. He hadn't felt this happy in a long time and it was high time he reveled in it. Gentle claws touched his shoulder and he sat up to see a very proud Darius Crowley staring down at him.

"Welcome back, brother." Darius hooked his claws under Cerdic's arm and helped him up. Cerdic beamed up at him and extended that wide smile to include his sister, who was stepping up beside him.

"You're cured!" Jeanne gave him a hopeful smile of her own and gently punched his arm. "You look like shite warmed over though."

Cerdic opened his mouth to retort when Darius cleared his throat. The siblings turned to look at him.

"It's…. not exactly a cure…" He held his paw up to forestall their questions. "It's a way to cope with this. You still will transform back to your pack form when you're in battle or you feel extreme emotions."

Cerdic felt his heart plummet as he mulled that over. He heard Jeanne snarl and snap her teeth in frustration.

"What's the point then?! Goldrinn said that we were supposed to regain our humanity here! This… This is not acceptable!"

Crowley's rumbling snarl shut her up and she settled for glaring at him. Cerdic subconsciously hunched down at the feel of the pack leader's irritation.

"The point, _pup_ , is to regain part of who we were! We cannot go back to who we once were before we were Afflicted! All we can do is make a new identity for ourselves with what we have. Now, are you going to go through with this or are you satisfied with being feral for the rest of your days?!"

Jeanne bared her teeth at him in anger but said nothing more, instead stomping past them and towards a concerned Vassandra. The she-elf shot Darius a look and he nodded grimly, steering Cerdic away from the clearing yet not so far as to rejoin the pack.

"We may be needed," Crowley murmured to Cerdic, keeping his eye on the young druid as she moved through the ceremony, "This may go badly."

_"What?"_

Crowley grimaced, running his claws through his mane. "I shouldn't have riled her up. She holds a lot of _fury_ in her heart still…"

Cerdic felt his face drain at the implication. He turned worried eyes to his sister, who was drinking at the last well, and shuddered at what was probably going to happen.

"Can she still pull though?"

"We'll see," Crowley sighed, gently nudging him forward, "Go. She'll be more receptive to you than me. I'll assist if needed."

Cerdic hesitated for a second before making his way to his sister and gently guided her towards the clearing he had just been in. He bade her to sit and he took his place across from her.

"Close your eyes, Sister." He waited until she did so. He could see her ears flickering, her breaths deepen, and her fingers twitch as her sensed heightened further. "Focus and the water from the wells will help. However, you are the one who knows where to begin. Look into your memories—"

"For what?"

Cerdic felt a soft, amused smile worm onto his lips. "For those most relevant to your life. But do more than remember them; relive them. Look for the choices you make, good and bad, and look for the reasoning behind them. I recommend starting with the oldest and make your way forward."

Jeanne frowned yet he could see that she did what he asked. As minutes passed he could see the emotions flitter across her lupine face, too quick to pin down just one. He waited patiently as she wrestled with her emotions and her memories, resisting the urge to reach out and comfort her. His own calm drained when he saw fury contort her face and he cautiously rolled onto the balls of his feet. Behind him he could hear the pack moving restlessly and Crowley move closer. He could feel the intense focus on his sister and he felt himself shift back into his pack form in response to those emotions. It wasn't a full minute after his shift when Jeanne's eyes flew open. He tensed as she remained as lupine as ever and he visibly saw the change in her eyes. A wild snarl and the unfocused look in her eyes confirmed his worst fears.

Cerdic never gave his body the command to pounce but he felt his body crashing into his sister's anyway. A furious growl answered him and he felt himself being flung away. He skidded across the ground and he heard Crowley engage with a roar.

"Don't hurt her!" He yelped, rolling to his feet and rejoining the fray. "There has to be some way to help her overcome the rage!"

"She has to do it herself!" Crowley grunted, pinning the druid on her stomach and pressing both her wrists to her sides. "The most we can do is keep her from hurting anyone and trying to talk through it!"

Cerdic immediately released her ankles and threw himself beside her. He jerked back as Jeanne snapped at him but remained where he was.

"Jeanne," he started, watching her ears pivot to focus on him, "Joanie, you need to push past this."

A furious eye spun to land on him and her struggles doubled. He gritted his teeth.

"Close your eyes and focus on my voice and what I'm trying to tell you. I know you're still in there. You need to concentrate on honing this raw anger into something much more powerful!"

Cerdic was almost disheartened by her continued struggling if not for the fact that her ears were still trained on him and her eyes had fluttered shut.

"Good! You're doing good! Now, feel that anger, that frustration and pain and hurt and push it out of your veins. It'll still be there, but at your control. Fight it, struggle to completely master it. Hammer it into a weapon you can use and doesn't use you! I know you can do it, Joanie. You've come this far; don't let go now!"

To his absolute relief, Jeanne's struggles slowed and her breathing deepened. Anger still contorted her face, but there was also determination in there too. Crowley kept her pinned and a spark of hope lit in his eye at the development. Cerdic couldn't help but to bow his head and mutter his prayer to whatever deity was watching them.

"Please come back to me. I can't lose you too. Come back. Come back. Come back."

* * *

"—back. Come back to me. Come back. _Please_ …"

The desperation in her brother's voice was enough to penetrate the haze of fury engulfing Jeanne's mind. She struggled towards it, fighting the rage every step and transforming it into something else entirely. She still wasn't sure what it was when she reached the light and the voice, but she tested it anyway. To her delight it came easily and only at her direction. It sort of felt like her father's cutlass, but molded to fit her instead of him. Like the cutlass, it was sharp and ready to kill, but only when she needed it to.

Pleased and feeling at peace, after so long, Jeanne made the final step. A sharp gasp and the feel of ice bolted through her veins. She felt her body shudder at the touch and relax as warmth took its place. A weary groan came from somewhere as a very heavy weight pushed her into the ground. It was lifted and she took a deep breath of relief.

"Joanie..?"

Cerdic's voice, filled with the purest relief and joy, prompted her to open her eyes. His face, not the one she grew up with, swam into view and was streaked with red. Alarm spiked through her and she lifted her head only to find that the streaks moved with her. Reluctant hope bloomed in her chest as she cautiously filled her lungs and blew sharply at them. They fluttered and fell back to her face, prompting a wide grin of happiness.

"I'm back." The soft statement, spoken in her own voice, made her heart flutter in giddiness.

Cerdic beamed and reached to push back the strands of her hair. She grinned at him and pushed herself onto her knees, wincing as she went.

"Bloody hell," she groaned, rolling her shoulders, "I feel like I was hit by a stag. What happ—"

She cut herself off when she caught sight of the torn up clearing. She followed the path of churned up dirt and realization hit her.

"Cerd, did I…?"

"You let the fury get the better of you." Crowley commented from a stride away. "Not the first one, but I am glad to say that you are one of the only to come back from that."

Jeanne bowed her head and stood up, brushing dirt off herself as she went. She wordlessly turned back to Cerdic, now human, and hugged him tightly. He stiffened in shock for a moment before returning the gesture.

"I love you, Cerd," she mumbled into his shoulder, "And I want to thank you for all that you've done for me over the years. I… don't say it enough… An', if we die…"

"Shhhhh… We'll get through this, Joanie… I promise. All three of us, together. After all, it takes a lot to kill us."

A weak laugh was his answer and she pulled back enough to subtly wipe her eyes. A gentle smile graced Cerdic's face as he patted her on the back. A commotion on the other side of the tree caught their attention. The ring of pack members parted and a familiar raven-haired woman sprinted towards them.

"Father!" The absolute joy in Lorna's voice was enough to move anyone's heart. Crowley's single eye opened wide and his mouth parted in that shared joy.

"Lorna!" He ran forward a few steps and swept her up in his arms, love and joy radiating from him. He pressed his nose into her hair in an approximation of a fatherly kiss. Jeanne saw another figure emerge out of the corner of her eye and she tore her eyes away from the touching reunion to focus on it. Her lips pulled away to bear her teeth in a habitual snarl when she identified him, violently pushing down the rising urge to change.

"Crowley!" Lord Godfrey barked and Darius pulled away from his daughter. The two men eyed each other for another moment before Godfrey's lips twisted in disgust. "You and your elven allies are hereby ordered to serve in the king's army. Cursed beast or not, you are still bound by Gilnean law!"

"Bollocks!" Jeanne snarled through her clenched teeth, drawing the noble's attention. "You cannot force the elves to help! That's enslaving them, you pompous wanker!"

Godfrey sneered at her but another figure came sauntering across the churned up dirt. Jeanne bit her lip as King Greymane surveyed the assembled mass with what seemed like somber amusement. His eyes landed on her and her brother and delight sparked in his steel eyes before moving on to land on Crowley.

"Does this toad speak for you, Genn?" Crowley challenged, his teeth baring in fury. She could feel the pack around her shift at the hostility in the air. "Do you come to our dwelling as a friend? Or do you come as a tyrant?"

Genn's finely wrinkled face crinkled in amusement, as if he found the bellowed words funny. His gaze did not waver from Crowley's challenging stare and he lifted his chin to answer it.

"No, my old friend." Genn dropped his own challenge and his eyes expressed deep understanding. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and _changed_.

Jeanne couldn't help the startled gasp that flew past her lips as a towering grey worgen, almost as light furred as she, took the King's place.

"I've come to you as an equal."

Lord Godfrey made a strangled sound and drew Jeanne's attention. His face was whiter than a sheet, horror and disgust plastered over his features.

"Im-impossible!" he squeaked, backing his cob away from the worgen King.

Without another word, Godfrey spun his horse and galloped away from the scene. Jeanne resisted the urge to laugh at the coward's flight and instead focused on Crowley, who bowed in respect and awe.

"Aye, Genn." his words carried over the congregated worgen as clear as a bell. "It is not law that binds us. It is something far stronger. My men are ready to give their lives under your command."

A victorious light entered the familiar weary eyes and the King nodded in mutual respect. "It is decided, then. We will unite all Gilneans and drive the Forsaken from our lands."

At the words, so confidently spoken, Crowley through his head back and howled. The rest of the pack joined in, including Jeanne and Cerdic, and the woods echoed with the sound of their determination.

* * *

"Lady Jeanne, Baron Cerdic. May I speak with you a moment?"

Jeanne glanced up at Crowley's familiar gruff voice and gave him her full attention. She had been gathering some herbs to process later when her brother had joined her, apparently to keep her company. Now the commander of the pack wanted to speak to them, obviously about something pressing if he was willing to seek them out himself.

"I need you two to go tell Mayor Armstead that the path through the Blackwald is safe. We will take care of any Forsaken behind them."

"Is that all?" Cerdic joked, "Nothing that needs a sound thrashing?"

Crowley chuckled and clapped a paw on Cerdic's furry shoulder. "Not yet, pup. Save that for later when we really need it. When will you be ready to go?"

Jeanne straightened and stowed a fistful of silverleaf in a pack. She shook her hands and slid into her pack form with ease.

"Now."

"May your claws stay sharp, pups."

Without another word, both worgen siblings dropped onto all fours and bounded onto the stone path. It took them hardly any time at all to reach Stormglen and discovered upon arriving that their message was unneeded.

"Figured as much when King Greymane came through here," Gwen commented, shaking her head. "Still sounds as bonkers as it did then. You two alright?"

Cerdic gave her a wide smile and slid into his human form, finishing with a bow. Gwen gave a wordless cry of delight when Jeanne followed suit and dragged them both into an embrace.

"Congratulations! I knew there was a cure somewhere out there!" she winked at them, a curious glint sparking in her eyes. "When all of this madness is over you two _have_ to tell me exactly what happened down there!"

"Will do Miss Armstead."

The woman beamed. She glanced around and slapped her thigh suddenly, a sheepish look falling over her face.

"Shoot! I forgot to tell you! Ammon told me to tell you that he's staying with the Queen until further notice. They were moved in preparation for the path being confirmed open.

You two should catch up to King Greymane and Krennan. They went into Tempest's Reach after Lord Godfrey had confirmed that there were survivors there."

"Got it." Cerdic slid back into his pack form and Jeanne followed suit. "Tell Ammon that he'd better stay safe and that we'd see him later. May your aim be true, Gwen."

"Yours also. Good luck."

With a weary snort, Jeanne led the way out of the inn. She cast a final glance at the row of carriages being loaded, wondering which one Ammon was in, before loping off after Cerdic. They took the path out of the town and their long legs ate away at the miles. It wasn't too long until the bridge came into view, along with something slumped off to the side of the road in front of it. The thing's scent blew towards them and had them pelting along faster.

"Krennan!" Cerdic gasped, throwing himself beside the alchemist and helping him sit up. "What happened to you?! Where's the King?"

The balding man groaned and pressed a hand to his head, where a bump had formed. Jeanne waved glowing fingers over him and he sighed in relief.

"Genn!" The man jolted as his memory returned. He turned anxious eyes to them. "They've taken our King!"

" _What?!_ "

Krennan nodded. "Lord Godfrey convinced two of the eastern lords to take King Greymane prisoner! The fools think that they can strike a bargain with the Forsaken by turning him over to Sylvanas."

Anger burned in Jeanne's heart and she snarled, whipping her head to glare at the land across the bridge. She made a move to cross the bridge but Cerdic's hand shot out to yank her back down.

"Idiot! Stay here and help us form a plan!"

A snarl was her answer but she obeyed. Krennan glanced between the two siblings and continued.

"I have one. We need to solve this with as little bloodshed as possible-"

"Oh, there _will_ be bloodshed once I get my teeth on that slimy, pompous bastard!"

"As I was saying, very little bloodshed as humanly possible. Which calls for an assassination on the traitorous lords. Here-" Krennan dug in his pockets and pulled out a metal flask and offered it to Cerdic. "This potion will allow you to sneak in undetected. You'll have to split it between you two."

Cerdic offered the flask to Jeanne, who shook her head. At his confused and peeved look she informed, "Take it. I have my feline form."

Cerdic lifted an eyebrow and Jeanne rolled her eyes, slipping into her feline form and demonstrating. She felt a sense of pride at the impressed look in her brother's eyes. The druid waited until he took a swig of the potion and faded out of sight before moving. She let her nose track her brother's whereabouts and followed him behind an outcropping of rock. They waited for the first patrol of hunter and mastiff pair to pass before moving farther up.

"You take Ashbury and I'll take Walden. Meet back at the King," Cerdic muttered at the next outcropping near where the paths split. Jeanne thumped her tail against his leg to show that she understood and padded across the road.

There was a moment of panic when the mastiff patrolling the bridge snuffled and snarled in her direction. She thanked everything holy that she had been out of reach when the dog's master paused to investigate and quickly made her way up the tiny island's steep winding slope. She paused when she saw the Baron step out of his mansion and crouched, observing what he does.

He nodded to the two men flanking the door, presumably his guards to ward off this very thing, and strolled down the path leading around the building. Jeanne followed, pleased to see that the path ended a ways away from the guards. Ashbury stopped at the end and let out a tense sigh. He focused on the Forsaken airship hovering over the steel waves and presented her the perfect target.

Jeanne made quick work of him. A pounce and a carefully placed bite was enough to sever his spine and he flopped onto the ground like a puppet cut from his strings. Jeanne stared down at him for a moment, debating whether or not to push the body into the ocean before shrugging. She spat out his blood and prowled her way back out, narrowly missing that same damned dog.

The smell of fresh blood near where the King was told her that Cerdic's mission was also a success. She followed her brother's lingering scent to his hiding place behind a bush and the wooden fence. She swat at his leg and held back a snort of laughter when he jumped a mile.

"Damn you!" he hissed, sending a glare where she should be. "Nearly gave me an apoplexy! You got it done?"

She let her silence be her answer.

"That was a stupid question... Anyway, you make sure Godfrey doesn't harm the King when we come out. Kill him if need be."

Jeanne mentally grinned and flicked her tail to indicate her understanding.

"On three. One. Two. Three!"

Jeanne and Cerdic bounded over the fence as one, letting their stealth drop as they came between the king and the circle of people around him. Though her deadlier form, Jeanne slipped out of her feline form to form a better barrier between the traitorous lord and her king. She bared her teeth at the stunned and enraged man in a malicious smile and snarled her warning. The men around them shouted and formed a tighter circle around them, many of them looking between the King and his guards and the Lord they served.

King Greymane's lips twisted in relief and victory as he glanced between the two worgen. He stepped up beside Jeanne, silencing her, and eyed Godfrey in a mixture of disappointment and anger.

"It's over, Godfrey! The eastern lords lay dead! You have no more support left!"

Godfrey's face first blanched in horror before reddening in defiant anger a moment later. Jeanne shifted, barely restraining herself from tearing his throat out until the command was given.

"No!" He spat defiantly. "I'd rather _die_ than have one of your kind as king!"

The lord charged through the throng of men, knocking many aside, and bolted towards the rocky cliffside.

"COWARD!" Jeanne screeched, bounding after the man in an effort to stop him so _she_ could kill him. "I HOPE THE FORSAKEN FEED YOUR PATHETIC CORPSE TO THEIR DOGS!"

Her claws scratched against the cobblestone and she slid to a stop when he jumped off the cliff. She heard his body hit the rocks below and she spat over the side as a final act of spite.

Genn and Cerdic were waiting for her when she returned, fury still bubbling under her skin. Cerdic sent her a disapproving glare but said nothing about what had just transpired. Genn sent the rocky ledge a look of regret and shook his head.

"I wish that could have been avoided. If this can be resolved without further bloodshed then let us do so. Thank you for your unwavering loyalty to me."

The king eyed them for a moment before squaring his shoulders and stepping back into his role.

"There is a mining town under Forsaken occupation to the northeast. I sent some of my men, including Lady Crowley to the nearby stables to begin operations there. Liam should be joining them shortly. However, they need someone to assist in retaking the mine and town."

"I have a horse," the man beside King Greymane, Lord Hewell if Jeanne's memory was accurate, piped up. The raven-haired man eyed the siblings with no small amount of trepidation. "However, I only have the one. One of you will have to stay behind."

Cerdic and Jeanne met each others gaze. A silent conversation transpired and they nodded in unison after a moment or two. Jeanne heaved a sigh and rolled her sore shoulders, wishing she had a moment to rest, and stepped up to the lord.

"I'll go. Light knows what manner of trouble Lorna's gotten herself into."

Cerdic snorted and King Greymane nodded. The king turned to the younger worgen and said, "I have a feeling Lord Crowley will be in need of your talents, Baron Cerdic. If memory serves me correctly than Lord Ammon is with them. Send him to me."

"Yes Sire." Cerdic bowed lowly to the king, sent Jeanne a 'be careful, dammit' look and bound off.

Jeanne watched him go with a heavy heart. She doesn't like it when they have to split up, but she knew sacrifices needed to be made in order to win this war.

"Jeanne," Genn called and gestured her closer. "I need to ask a boon of you."

"Make it."

"I need you to look after Liam for me." Jeanne blinked in surprise and looked at Genn with a raised brow. "The boy has a reckless streak the size of Gilneas and he needs someone to look after his hide. I cannot ask Lady Lorna to do so and he avoids his men with ease."

"I promise on my honour as a Gilnean that I will not let him get injured."

"Thank you." Genn dipped his head in thanks and Jeanne stiffened in surprise. "Your father would be so proud of the three of you."

Tears sprang into her eyes and her breath stuttered. Before anything else could be said a soft whinny announced the arrival of her ride. With a final look at the king, Jeanne swung onto the shiny black cob and kicked it into a gallop. She took a deep calming breath, banished the tears, and focused on what she needed to do next.


	15. The Battle for Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that King Greymane is free, Jeanne disembarks to Emberstone to aid the people there. The Battle for Gilneas is looming on the horizon and the stakes just got much higher for Jeanne.

"Lady Delroy, aren't you a sight for sore eyes!"

Jeanne gave the woman a tight-lipped grin and deftly leapt off the sweating cob. She handed the reigns to the stablehand and rolled her shoulders in an effort to get the lingering knots out of them.

"I would imagine so, Lady Crowley. Need all the help you can get ridding these bloated wankers off our lands."

Lorna's eyes twinkled in amusement despite the seriousness imprinted on her face. The older woman sighed and ran a hand down her face, her weariness showing in every move she made.

"I cannot express how glad I am to have a harvest-er, druid of your caliber here. We've been having a hell of a time getting the Forsaken out of Emberstone Village and its mine. Could you..?"

"Yeah, yeah, no need to ask." Jeanne rolled her shoulders again, grimacing briefly at the stiffness. "Anything else that needs to be done?"

"Kill the Brothogg the Slavedriver while you're at it."

"Alright. Need anything else?"

"Yeah," a woman near the campfire piped up. She wiped her hands off on her stained apron and gestured out to the wild deer grazing just beyond the stable. "I'm a right lousy fighter but a damned good cook. This upcoming battle is gonna be the last thing many of our men do and I'll be damned if they die without a hot meal in their bellies!"

"I agree."  
"Get me, say, ten sides of good stag an' I'll ensure these folk's last meal is their best."

"Fine by me. You'll have your stag sides after I free the villagers."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, my Lady."

Jeanne nodded to the cook and then to Lorna in respect, rolled her shoulders and deftly slipped into her feline form. She took a few deep draws of the air, wrinkled her furry snout at the strong smell of rot, and padded off in that direction. Soon enough the _chink chink chink_ of pickaxes hitting stone and the gangling of chains reached her ears. Guttural voices rose above the din on occasion.

Jeanne willed herself invisible when she rounded the corner and spotted the first Forsaken. She mentally sighed, unsheathed her sharp claws, and calculated the distance between her and her prey.

 _Sorry mate_ , she thought as she bunched her legs in preparation to launch herself. _It's nothin' personal; you're simply in the way._

* * *

It took Jeanne a couple hours to free everyone in the mine, destroy every Forsaken infantry she could lay her paws on, and kill the abomination of a slavedriver. Another hour passed in her effort to muster up the sides of stag for the cook that hadn't been destroyed in killing the damned beast. The effort left the young druid in a desperate need of a bath and she certainly wasn't going to use her tongue!

"I see you're done," Lorna commented, wrinkling her nose as her stench hit her. Still in her feline form, Jeanne gave a short growl and narrowed her glowing blue eyes to convey her displeasure. The druid stood front of the noblewoman covered in filth as she awaited the next set of instructions.

"Don't you glare at me!" Lorna scowled down at the druid, folding her arms over her battered dress. "We're all covered in all manners of dirt and filth! If you really desire a bath then go take one in the river! We've already reclaimed Emberstone Village while you were busy ferreting the Forsaken out of the mine."

With a snort that was half an irritable snarl Jeanne padded off down the dusty road in the direction of the village. True to her word the village was littered with the bodies of Forsaken, most of whom were already attracting flies. With a disgusted huff, Jeanne avoided most of them and settled herself close to the mountainside and near a small wooden dingy bobbing on the waves.

Jeanne made her bath extremely short, only taking the time to scrub most of the filth out of her silvery fur and hair. She shook herself mostly dry—feeling like the world's largest dog in the process—and swiftly departed, loping along on her four legs to dry herself the rest of the way. The feeling that something incredibly important was going to happen loomed over her and she didn't like it one bit.

A familiar head of ruddy gold made her freeze in her tracks and her breath caught in her chest. There, talking to Lorna and dressed in fine combat gear, was the Prince himself. An unfamiliar feeling rose in her chest at the sight of him; because she was betrothed to him or something else she wasn't sure. It kind of felt like... butterflies?

The druid shook her head and straightened to her full height only to sink as the worgen was replaced with her human guise. The act of changing caught both their attention though Jeanne only had eyes for the Prince with the desire to see his reaction.

Liam's brows furrowed and he squinted, trying to see past the haze of magically induced smoke. As soon as she stepped out of the smoke and her long crimson hair caught the dim light his eyes lit up in recognition and a wide smile split his face.

"Jeanne! You've regained yourself!" He bounded towards her, arms wide to embrace her. His joy was infectious and she found herself smiling in his rough hug. "It's good to see you again!"

"Good to see you too Liam." Jeanne extracted herself from his arms with difficulty. A playful frown teased her lips as she looked up at him and she crossed her arms. "Though I still resent that you're so grotesquely tall."

His eyes twinkled in merriment. "Not my fault you're so bloody short Joanie."

She stuck her tongue out at him childishly. "I'm of average height you bloody prat! I'll chop you off at the knees!"

"Then I'd be shorter than you!"

"I'm glad you see my point."

Liam laughed and shook his head. "Seven foot tall beast or no, you're still the same old Jeanne. It truly is good to have to have you back."

Jeanne snorted and looked past him to the city beyond, her amusement fading like the light behind the mountains. "Why are you here Liam? Are we going to try and push the Forsaken out of the city?"

He let out a gusty sigh and she refocused on him. His face looked grim and he ran a hand through his hair. "Father tasked me with leading the militia, the people you freed from the mines. We're to start the push at dawn."

Equal parts dread and determination gripped her heart. She bit her cheek and swallowed nervously. Something felt dreadfully off and she couldn't put a finger on it.

A rough hand on her shoulder shook her out of her thoughts. Liam's hazel eyes emitted concern and understanding as well as hope.

"Would you dine with me tonight? I feel we have much to discuss."

Jeanne swallowed and nodded after a moment. Liam's lips twitched in a relieved smile and he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

"I think Miss. Whitewall is serving the first course now. Could you find a suitable spot to eat while I get our portions?"

Another nod, this time a little hesitant, sealed the deal and Jeanne had to swallow another wave of dread when Liam beamed at her.

"Excellent. Be there in a bit, love."

Liam turned away just as Jeanne's face heated like a furnace. Muttering curses, most of them towards the handsome prince, Jeanne spun on her heel and stomped off in a random direction. Her feet took her to a rock outcropping overlooking the flowing river a little ways away from the stables. She could still hear the murmurs from the multitude of people camped there but none of them were distinguishable. The distance comforted her and she contented herself with watching the river gurgle past the rocks.

The crunch of sticks snapping jolted her out of her peaceful trance and she was transformed and on her feet in an instant. Jeanne swore when she saw Liam's amused expression and shrunk back down to her human guise, fixating an annoyed glare onto him.

"Scare you?" He teased lightly, eyes crinkling at her answering growl, still rather canine despite coming from a human throat.

"No! You _startled_ me. I have been fighting Forsaken day in day out since I regained my myself!"

Liam's amusement faded at that. "That's right... You've only been back with us for less than a week..."

Jeanne hummed in agreement and plopped herself onto the ground, patting the space beside her in invitation. Liam handed her a roughly carved bowl and spoon and eased himself down beside her. An exhausted sigh eased out of his lips as he made himself comfortable. Jeanne agreed with him; it had been an exhausting couple of days and it was good to relax some.

"So," Jeanne started after a time, lowering her half-empty bowl and eyeing the prince with a restrained curiosity. "What did you need to discuss..?"

He hummed and lifted a finger, asking for a moment to let him finish chewing. Jeanne waited with dwindling patience as he seemed to take his sweet time. Just as Jeanne's patience was at its end he swallowed his food and set his bowl in his lap.

"We're engaged." Jeanne blinked, slightly taken aback at his bluntness.

"I know. Queen Mia told me back at the Manor."

"So, you... _don't_... mind?" Liam's hesitance made her heart ache but she understood why he was so. She'd made her position on marriage perfectly clear when she was younger.

"Mind me being bartered and given over like a prize mastiff? Yes, absolutely." Liam flinched and turned his face downward. Ah, so he knew that was exactly what happened. She'd been feral still when this happened.

Jeanne felt her temper flare but she stifled it before it had truly taken root. She still felt it simmering beneath her skin. The druid took a steadying breath and continued.

"However, I have no objection to the man whom I am betrothed to." Jeanne gave Liam a small smile, secretly enjoying the astonished look on his face. "I've always been fond of you, you know this. You became sort of like another brother, a mentor figure to me. This... marriage... business is going to be tough for me given those feelings."

She took another breath and focused on trying to organize her jumbled thoughts.

"If, If Genn... and Mia... and Cerdic... and, and you... think I'll make a good queen then... then I guess I have to try. For Gilneas."

Silence stretched between them and Jeanne fingered her bowl nervously. Had she said too much? Or not enough? The druid had nearly worked herself up to an anxious ball of nerves before Liam finally caught her eye. Respect and affection swam in his hazel eyes and an understanding smile lifted his lips.

"Thank you for that, truly. I know how hard it is to pry your private thoughts from you."

Jeanne and Liam shared a short laugh at the memories the statement called forth.

"To tell you the truth," he continued, sobering up. "This is... strange for me as well. You've always been my younger sister's playmate, then best friend's sister, then young student, then another sister far more rebellious than Tess ever was."

"When Father told me he was intending to petition for your hand on my behalf I thought he'd gone mad! I told him that I was not romantically interested in you and that I have full confidence that I was never going to. I recall him telling me that, since I had not been actively looking for a wife, it left him no choice. He considers this a 'repayment' for all the years your family had been loyal to him and his father before him."

"I figured that was the case," she murmured, shaking her head and leaning back on her palms. "Papa and the king had been childhood friends. It makes sense that he gifted Cerdic the title, inheritance of the townhouse and the family business. Ammon with the freedom to be who he was destined to be without much trouble from the law. And me... with marrying above my station and becoming queen..."

Jeanne bolted back up as another thought occurred to her. "Liam, can you answer me honestly?"

"Haven't I been?"

She turned a shrewd eye to him as if daring him to lie to her. "Is that why you'd been drinking? When I was brought back to myself?"

His face darkened and shame swam in his eyes. He turned away from her a little and braced his elbows on his knees.

"You-you have to understand, Jeanne; the days after the Night of Affliction were dark ones. My Father disappeared for days after he'd been bit. The country was in shambles and frightened at their own shadows. My best friend and my sister figure had been taken from me in one night. My people were coming back as the, I hate to say it, _beasts_ that had caused this in the first place. Father, once he came back from the elves, had confided that he'd picked _you_ , Joanie, to be my wife, well... brandy dulled the pain to a tolerable level."

Jeanne's heart broke at the broken expression on the prince's face and she touched his shoulder to comfort him. He shot her a grateful look and straightened up, banishing most of the air of regret.

"You were the one who gave me the wake up call I needed; when the Forsaken had started their invasion. I know I said hurtful things to you and I'm truly sorry for that."

"It's alright. Both of our emotions were running high that day." She offered him a small smile, which he returned.

"Oh!" Liam jolted and dug around in his pockets for a few moments. His face morphed into one of relief when he found what he'd been looking for and withdrew his fist from his pocket. The prince turned towards her properly and cleared his throat, catching her left hand in his.

"This was supposed to be given to you back at the Manor." Liam uncurled his fist to reveal a small ring, gleaming bright silver in the light of the torches behind them. The Greymane family crest was carved in meticulous detail and was flanked by small emeralds and white diamonds. Jeanne's breath hitched and her cheeks flooded with heat. She glanced up at him and he gave her a lopsided smile.

"I hope to marry in the spring after all of this is over. I think it's fitting to give this to you now on the eve of the most important battle in Gilnean history. I promise you that I will be the best husband I can be."

Jeanne watched as he slipped the ring onto her fourth finger, the feeling of something being off intensifying with every passing moment. His thumb ran back and forth over the truesilver band for a few moments before bringing her fingers to his lips. His eyes met hers and she forced a smile onto her lips.

"Well," Liam said, straightening up and rolling to his feet. "I think it's time we head back to camp. We need to catch a little sleep."

"I-I'm gonna stay out here for a little longer. I'll find you later."

Liam gave her a shrewd look before nodding his assent. "Alright. Don't be too long."

"Save your worrying for the morrow, git. Go find a nice patch of dirt to spread your bedroll over."

"I'm sure you'll join me." Jeanne snorted at his suggestive tone and threw a dirt clod at him.

"None of that! Have you forgotten that _I'm_ a noblelady and _you're_ the Crown Prince?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "Thought it was worth a shot. Goodnight Jeanne."

"Night."

Jeanne heard him clamber back to camp and she turned her back to him. A sigh eased past her lips and she examined the gleaming ring on her finger. The sense of unease still clung to her and she had a hunch that it was connected to the upcoming battle.

"Damn you Genn!" she whispered, fisting her hand and pressed it to her eyes. "Damn you Liam! Damn you both to the Nether for making me feel like this!"

* * *

It was another half an hour before Jeanne could regain control of her emotions and trudge back to camp. Most of the defenders were bedded down near individual campfires dotting over the nearby area. After a quick search she found Liam talking to Lorna around a similar fire near a small grove of trees. Jeanne picked her way over churned up soil and eased herself down onto a fallen log that was serving as seating.

"Good to see you Jeanne," Lorna greeted with a tight-lipped smile.

"Likewise Lorna." Jeanne sighed and ran a hand through her long hair. "We attack at dawn, yes?"

"That's right. Everything in order?" Lorna's dark eyes shot down to the druid's left hand, surprise lifting her brows. Jeanne felt a small sense of pride but folded her hands on her leg so that the ring was under her other hand.

"As much as it can be under the circumstances... Any word from King Greymane? Your father?"

"Only that we strike at dawn. They're striking from other points and the plan is to pin the Forsaken in Greymane Court."

"Sounds reasonable," Jeanne yawned, stretching her arms above her head. "Any word if Sylvanas herself is planning to show her rotting face?"

"None. There's a high chance that she's issuing orders from the back ranks."

"Good. Well, I think we should turn in for the night."

There were murmured of agreement from her two companions and they bedded down. Though exhausted to the bone sleep did not come easy to Jeanne. The foreboding sense of unease stifled her like a blanket holding too much heat.

_I prey to everything that is holy that everything will turn out okay._

* * *

They woke in the grey predawn to much commotion. People were donning what little armour they were gifted with and sharpening their rapiers and swords in preparation of battle. Some were eating a cold breakfast of stew though others looked like they were going to be sick. The one and only horse, the same one that Jeanne rode in on, was already groomed and saddled and nervously pawing the churned up dirt.

"Your Highness," one of the stable hands murmured, handing the reigns to the Prince, "He's yours to lead the charge on. Henry will take good care of you in battle."

"Thank you. May we prevail."

The boy muttered something under his breath and went back to his own preparations. Jeanne paid him no mind as she watched Liam stroke the cob's neck and whisper reassurance in his ears. The horse calmed and allowed the man to swing onto his back.

"Liam," the druid called softly, stepping up beside him. "I'll be fighting at your flank. Don't do anything stupid, you bloody prat!"

He gave her a tense smile, though his eyes radiated gratitude. "Yes dear. It's an honour to be fighting beside you once again."

Jeanne muttered exactly where he could shove his honour and went about preparing herself. She donned her armour, attached her staff to her back, and made sure her packs were empty except for the things she absolutely needed. She slipped a healing potion into her belt and, after doing another check, slipped into her worgen form.

"Ready?" Liam asked her as she stepped up beside him. She glanced east, grimaced at the rays of light peeking through the low clouds, and steeled herself.

"As much as I'm going to be."

Liam nodded, twisted in his saddle, gave a glance over the amassed defenders, gave another nod, and turned his mount to pace the width of the road.

"The Forsaken think we're weak," he began, almost spitting the words in disgust. "A broken people. They think we'll roll over like scared dogs."

"How wrong they are." Liam lifted his head, his hazel eyes burning with emotion in the golden light of the sun. "We will fight them in the fields until the last trench collapses and the last cannon is silenced!"

"We will fight them on the streets until the last shot is fired. And when there's no more ammunition, we'll crush their skulls with the very stones that pave our city!"

Liam raised his voice to a near shout and Jeanne felt her spirits and determination heed the call of her Prince. She felt her people shift behind her and heard their shouts of agreement.

"We will fight them in the alleys, until our knuckles are skinned and bloody and our rapiers lay in the ground shattered!"

"And if we find ourselves surrounded and disarmed... wounded and without hope..." Liam trailed off and stopped his mount to stare at the defenders, pride and challenge burning in his eyes.

"We will lift our head in defiance and spit in their faces!"

He spun around to face the gate, rapier raised as he bellowed into the golden sky, "BUT WE WILL NEVER SURRENDER! FOR GILNEAS!"

The defenders roared their agreement and as one charged across the bridge. Jeanne howled her challenge to the heavens as she pelted along ahead of Liam and bowled into the first group of Forsaken. Shots rang out and shouts of challenge and pain filled the air and all Jeanne knew was the feel of bones breaking under her feline jaws and flesh shredding underneath her claws. She sensed Liam move away and she followed, keeping to his flank and casting spells as a worgen.

An arrow flew past Jeanne head, narrowly missing her ear. The druid spun and targeted the culprit, a smirking grey-skinned elf who was nocking another arrow. A round of shots rang out and the elf jerked and cried out. Jeanne snarled and hit her with her own magic, ears flattening at her screams, before silencing her with another bolt of magic.

"Nice shot!" Liam bellowed over the boom of guns and Jeanne smiled wickedly.

They moved right past a building that Jeanne belatedly recognized as her family's business/townhouse. Rage blinded her when she saw that the windows had been shattered and the place had been looted. The druid shut her eyes, pushed down the side of her that wanted to run on ahead and murder every Forsaken scum she saw, and jogged to catch back up with Liam.

"Abominations are blocking the way toward the military district!" she heard Liam shout. Jeanne glanced to her left and yelped as a cannon nearly ran over her. Lorna gave her a sheepish smile and rolled the cannon into position, gesturing for more to be placed.

"The villagers were thankful to have Emberstone back!" she called over the din of cannons creaking and the abominations groaning beneath them. "They brought us a little something to help against the Forsaken!"

Liam beamed at her and maneuvered his horse to the side. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Lorna! Lure the abominations out and man the cannons!"

Jeanne took a place near the bottom of the stairs and pulled some of them with bolts of green magic. She watched as they were bowled over with lead in their guts as soon as they came into view and smiled darkly. Other defenders took up luring them out and the cannons did the rest of the work.

"Crowley's troops are up ahead! Press on!"

Jeanne waited long enough to allow Liam to catch up and she loped along beside him. The defenders before them took care of the Forsaken blocking their way and a chorus of triumphant howls greeted them. Jeanne howled her own greeting and pressed into the jail's courtyard. The druid only got a glimpse of the surroundings, rotting abominations and other viscera hanging from the ramparts, before a earth-rumbling roar grabbed her attention.

"What in the bloody hell is that thing?!"

What lumbered over the hastily constructed defenses could only be described as a cross between an abomination and Gilneas's resident ettin. Jeanne felt her jaw drop in horror as it looked around and stood up.

It's deformed face screwed up in what she guessed was hate and it bellowed, "Gorerot crush puny worgen!"

It kicked at the Gilneans and sent several of them flying to their deaths. Jeanne narrowly missed being bowled over by one of her packmate's bodies and rolled under Liam's horse. She thanked everything that was holy that he had the sense to stay near the outskirts of the battle and litter the beast with ammo from his rifle.

"He's too strong!" Crowley shouted from somewhere to her right. "Use the catapults to bring him down!"

Catapults? Jeanne rolled out from Liam's horse and looked around wildly. The flicker of flame caught her eye and she groaned when she saw the vague shape of a catapult beneath the flames.

"Why do they have to be on fire?!" she yelled to no one as she bolted towards the nearest one.

The heat singed her exposed fur as she swung into the seat and she fumbled with the controls. She snarled as the smell of burning leather and hair filled her nostrils and shoved a lever forward. The catapult groaned in protest but rolled forward a few feet, close enough for her to make a shot. Jeanne scanned the controls and punched a big red button on the right. She was both alarmed and pleased when the machine shook, groaned, and launched a flaming ball of something at the giant and hit him square in the back. The giant lurched forward with a roar of pain and spun around to find the source of his pain. The sound of more catapults groaning filled the air and he was bombarded with flaming ammo.

Jeanne felt her catapult shudder violently beneath her and she leapt out right before the machine collapsed into a heap of flaming debris. The earth shuddered once again as, with a mighty moan, the giant keeled over and died. A chorus of cheers and howls rent the air as the dust settled and they had a few moments to breathe.

"You're hurt!" Jeanne growled as she loped up to Liam, who was bleeding freely from his shoulder.

He shrugged. "It tends to happen in a _battle_ , Joan."

"Belt it and let me heal you!"

She waved her claws at him and a green glow enveloped him, staunching the bleeding. A wave of fatigue hit her as he straightened up and gave her a small smile.

"Here." She dug in her pack, pulled out a handful of healing potions, and shoved them at him. "Make good use of these. My healing skills are abysmal and you'll need healing more than I can give you."

"Thanks."

Liam tucked them away and urged his horse forward. Jeanne rolled her shoulders, took a steadying breath, and followed.

"Let us join your father's force, Liam." Crowley yelled above the din of dying Forsaken. He jogged to the Prince, a grim look on his face. "Sylvanas has taken to the field and they'll need help against her!"

Jeanne felt the blood drain from her face at the news. Liam nodded as if he'd expected this and spurred his horse forward. Jeanne leapt after him and engaged in more Forsaken, tearing through them quite easily. She made absolute sure that she kept Liam on her left flank and defended him as best she could in the mass confusion of battle and death.

More Gilneans joined them as they crossed the bridge into Greymane Court and the sounds of a major battle could be heard from across the square.

"Block their retreat, Liam!" A voice bellowed over the square. Jeanne immediately identified it to be her King's. "We've got them right where we want them!"

Hastening to obey, Liam swung his horse and his defenders ate their way towards the gate. Jeanne was in the middle of severing her current target's spine when she heard her king roar in fury.

"SYLVANAS!"

The druid whipped her head up in time to see Liam's face harden in resolve. His hands tightened around the reigns and he squared his shoulders. With a shout he kicked the horse into a gallop and Jeanne was hot on his tail.

"DAMMIT LIAM!" she screeched, pelting along after him. "YOU WERE ORDERED TO BLOCK THEIR RETREAT!"

"They're not going to retreat so long as she's alive!" he shot back as he bowled over a couple Forsaken infantry with the horse. "I need to help take her down!"

"You bloody moron!" Jeanne huffed as he swung off his mount. She glared at him and he returned the look.

"Go help my father! That's an order!"

"No can do Princey! Got orders from the King himself to make sure you don't do anything stupid!"

"Dammit Jeanne! Can't you see that this is more important than that?! Now GO!"

Jeanne snarled loudly at him but turned and joined the mob surrounding the Dark Lady, who looked quite bored and slightly amused as she blocked Genn's attacks and responded with her own. Jeanne hit her with a bolt of lunar fire and the elf jerked, giving Genn an opening to land a hit on her. As the druid hit the elf with another bolt of magic, slews of knives and others' magic hit her at the same time.

Sylvanas's lips twitched downward and her brow furrowed in annoyance. She had a slightly harder time parrying Genn's strike but failed to make her own as the wave of magical attacks hit her once again.

Jeanne was about to launch into another cast when Sylvanas's face twisted in a frightful snarl and flung out a glowing hand.

"ENOUGH!"

A wall of magic hit Jeanne like a stag and she went down in a tangle of legs and bodies. Her head swam and the world looked fuzzy and unfocused. She tried to move her legs but for the life of her she couldn't get them to cooperate.

_Come on! Liam... Liam's still up!_

A dark chuckle filtered through the fog and she renewed her struggle to regain control. The fuzzy image of Sylvanas reached behind her and pulled a massive strung bow from the back of her skeletal horse. She reached into her quiver and pulled out an arrow, nocked the bow, and drew it.

"Let's see how brave Gilneas gets on without its stubborn leader!"

Jeanne's heart froze in horror and she put her heart and soul into trying to get up. The druid managed to get to her knees and desperately made the motions to cast.

"FATHER!"

_Twang!_

_Shink!_

"LIAM! NO!"

A figure collapsed in front of King Greymane and Jeanne halted her cast immediately. Horror, disbelief, and most of all denial coursed through her as Sylvanas clucked her tongue.

"Such a waste," the elf mused, her lilting voice mocking, "That arrow's poison was not meant to be wasted on your whelp. We'll meet again, Genn."

Sylvanas spurred her horse into a gallop and bolted in a random direction. Jeanne paid her no mind as she managed to crawl towards a now-human Genn.

"We... We did it... father..." Liam's choked whisper carried over the courtyard. His hazel eyes flickered to Jeanne, tears streaming down his cheeks, and his lips lifted in a ghost of a smile.

"We... took back our ci-city... We took back..."

His breath hitched and his eyes glassed over. His hands fell limp and slid onto the cold wet cobblestone beneath them. Genn's lined face screwed up in the most honest expression of pain she'd ever seen and a sob shuddered his entire being.

With tears streaming down her face, Jeanne threw her head back and let out a low, mournful howl. Hundreds more voices took up voicing their grief and the world around them echoed with their sorrow and pain. Jeanne clutched her chest, for her heart felt like it was being torn in two, and succumbed to bitter tears. Two pairs of warm arms and familiar scents enveloped her and she turned to sob into her twin's shoulder.

Liam Greymane, her prince, her best friend, brother, and fiance, was dead.


	16. Full Circle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Liam's death, there are decisions to be made. Jeanne volunteers to be the distraction they need to evacuate the city and the siblings have a last talk at the foot of their parents' grave.

"Joanie, you need to get up."

Ammon's voice, gentle and caring and full of the same pain she felt, annoyed her and she refused to move. His hands, warm and calloused from years of martial training, slipped under her furred arm and tugged upwards but still she did not move.

"Liam wouldn't want you to catch your death kneeling out here on the cold stone."

Her heart stung and her body jerked in response to the pain, a hiss flying out of her clenched teeth. She knew he was right and reluctantly allowed herself to be pulled up and towards the shell of a building. Dimly, she heard Cerdic talking to Lorna but Ammon firmly led her past them and up the stairs to an empty room.

He set her down on the only bed there and slipped back out the door. His footsteps crept down the hall to another room and she heard water splashing into a basin. It stopped after a few moments and soon he was coming back to her room. Ammon paused in the doorway holding a carved stone basin of water and a few rags dangled on his arm.

"Change back." His voice was short and clipped and she gave him a desperate stare in answer. He simply lifted an eyebrow. "I know you can. You're no longer in danger."

With a gusty sigh she obeyed and he strode across the small room to set the basin down on the end table. He dipped a rag in the water, sat down beside her, forced her to turn towards him, and gently wiped away the dirt and tears on her face.

"Cerdic's gone to scout the Forsaken with that Tobias man." Ammon informed her as he cleaned the rag and moved on to her arms. "Sylvanas is meeting with some important orc and we want to know what it's about."

Jeanne absorbed the knowledge in silence. Ammon allowed it as he continued to clean the worst of her wounds. He eventually set the rag in the murky water and collected her hands in his own, squeezing lightly to keep them there.

"Joanie," he called softly and she met his eyes. They shone with concern and empathy and pain and unconditional love. "I know you are hurting, more so than most. But you _cannot_ lose yourself to this. Now is not the time to mourn as fully as we need to. Gilneas is still in danger and Liam would never forgive us if we led her people to ruin because of our grief."

Though her heart burned in pain and renewed grief she saw the wisdom behind the words. Jeanne took a deep breath, pushed down her misery as best she could, and nodded. Ammon gave her a small gentle smile in encouragement and squeezed her hands.

"Come, Cerdic is due to be back soon. I have a feeling he's going to need our support."

Jeanne nodded once again and got to her feet. She followed Ammon back down the stairs to wait. Lorna shot her a sympathetic look, which Jeanne pretended not to see, and the druid focused on glaring impatiently out the door. Ammon contented himself with playing with one of his throwing knives.

They didn't have to wait for long. Jeanne straightened when she caught wind of heaving breaths and the thudding of paws on wet stone. A few moments later both worgen barreled in, narrowly missing Lorna in their rush to get inside.

"What happened?" Lorna cried, rushing forward to help an exhausted Tobias up off the floor.

"P-Plague, Lady Crowley. She plans to release the Plague."

For the second time that morning Jeanne's heart froze in terror and she looked to Cerdic for conformation. To her horror he nodded grimly and straightened up.

"It's true Lorna. Jeanne, Ammon, come with me. We notify the King."

The siblings fell in behind him and they marched from the inn back out onto the street. Cerdic smelt the air, turned to their right, and led them to another building close by. The eldest sibling knocked on the doorframe before entering. Ammon went in after but Jeanne faltered at the door. Inside was the King kneeling at the head of his son's body. The aged man's face was streaked with tears that had long since fallen.

Liam looked to all the world to be sleeping. His eyes had been closed and his arms were arranged over his chest, hands overlapping each other. His ruddy-gold locks had been lovingly groomed and laid neatly around his face and shoulders. The place where the arrow struck had been covered up by another, more formal jacket.

The aged king looked up at the intrusion and his grey eyes were filled with pain and grief.

"News?" Genn demanded, voice still strong despite the storm brewing in his eyes.

Cerdic immediately launched into the report, looking the city guard he had been. "Lady Crowley has a strike team tailing Sylvanas and waits for your order to attack. However, we have learned that she intends on bombarding us with the Plague."

King Greymane hissed out a contemplative breath, fist clenching on his knee. "To exact revenge on the rotting dog that murdered my son or to evacuate my people. You present me the most difficult choice of my life."

King Greymane bowed his head and, after a moment, trailed his fingers across Liam's head of ruddy-gold hair. Another sigh followed and Genn got to his feet, determination burning in his eyes.

"Liam loved his people first and foremost. It would be a tarnish to his memory if I do not care for the people he died for. I need one of you three to provide a distraction while we evacuate everyone through the Undertaker's Pass."

"I'll do it." Jeanne stepped farther into the room, eyes blazing with anger. "Tell me how and when."

Genn gazed down at her with a look of understanding. When he spoke it was an order. "We captured one of their bombing bats during the battle. Ride the bloody beast and unleash hell upon them."

Jeanne bowed and paused to take one last look at Liam. Her eyes softened in sorrow for a moment before she forced herself to leave. When she marched out into the courtyard again she shifted into her worgen form and looked around for her mount.

She heard screeches of anger and she followed the sounds. The druid watched it struggle against its captors for a moment before stepping into its line of sight.

"You listen here, Bat," she snarled, grabbing its attention. It lunged towards her but she did not flinch from her place. "You _will_ carry me as long as I need you to. Do you understand me?!"

It chittered and snapped as an answer but otherwise stayed still as she clambered onto it and attached a proffered sack of bombs onto the saddle. The bat launched into the air as soon as its binds were cut and she had to give the reigns a hard yank to turn it.

Jeanne smirked as soon as she caught sight of the first platoon of Forsaken. She suppressed the urge to laugh as she reached into the sack, withdrew one of the iron bombs, lit it with a flick of flint, and tossed it onto the army below her. The bat squawked and flapped at the resulting shockwave and Jeanne had to do some quick maneuvering to keep it on course.

Jeanne bombed the Forsaken army until she ran out of bombs to drop. With a disappointed sigh the druid tugged the bat back towards the main city. The bat practically dumped her off just inside Greymane Court and high tailed it back towards the ruined and smoking Forsaken army. Jeanne huffed, picked herself back up and jogged back into the square.

Her nose led her back to the building that King Greymane had been in before. To her surprise there was a small mass of people gathered inside it and she had to squeeze through to get to the king. He was standing next to the stairs that descend into the Pass and tending to a pain wooden coffin.

"It is done, your Majesty," Jeanne called, striding right up to him. "I bombed the mongrels until I ran out of bombs."

Though Genn's eyes still held a deep sorrow, her news lightened the pain swimming in them. "I heard. You've done well; almost everyone has gone through."

Jeanne allowed a small smile to flitter on her lips before slipping off entirely when she spied who occupied to coffin. Her eyes darkened in sadness as she sidled up to the coffin and tenderly fingered Liam's hair into place. "Are we burying him at Aderic's Repose?"

"Yes. He would want to stay here."

She nodded and bit her lip to contain a fresh wave of tears. "Where are Mia and Tess..?"

"Waiting on the other side with Cerdic and Ammon. I have a feeling that something is wrong there. Take a torch and investigate while we prepare to move Liam."

Jeanne nodded again and grabbed the nearest torch, giving the coffin one last glance before disappearing into the tunnel. The first thing that assaulted her was the _smell,_ one that was like a Forsaken on a hot summer day and mold rolled into one super stench. Jeanne just barely resisted vomiting on a multitude of rats and waved her torch in front of her to scatted the damned rodents. The ones that tried to take a chunk out of her died in a pillar of lunar flames, the smell of burning fur adding to the wretched flavour of the Pass.

The druid hurried towards the light at the end of the tunnel and, when she finally surfaced, took a greedy gulp of fresh air. Krennan, who was standing beside the entrance, gave her an understanding smile and patiently waited for her to regain her breath before addressing her.

"Lady Delroy, it is a pleasure to see you got through okay." Jeanne glared at him and his lips twitched in amusement. "Well, except for your nose, but that'll regain in time."

"Right... Anyway, Genn sent me through to assist you in something. He sensed something off."

The alchemist nodded grimly, turning to wave a hand over the hilly cemetery. "Take a look for yourself and then ask me that again, young druid."

Jeanne lifted a furry brow and took a proper look around. Her fur bristled when she saw a semi-transparent figure of a woman walk past, an aura of fury surrounding the ghostly figure. As she looked she picked out more and more of her people risen as ghosts, all bearing a similar look and aura of anger.

"We angered them..." Jeanne glanced at Krennan for conformation and he nodded.

"It was the evacuation."

A look of understanding passed over Jeanne's face at the statement. "We disturbed the mementos, didn't we? That's why they're so angry."

"Yes. Your brothers are somewhere collecting some. They had to escort the Queen and Princess to safety and promised to come back to help lay Liam to rest. They wanted me to tell you that they will meet you at 'the spot' when you came through."

Jeanne nodded sharply, thanked Krennan, and headed towards the nearest sparkle of an unearthed memento. She carefully brushed dirt off it and pocketed it, turning to scan the ground for another. A hiss of fury had her wheeling around to see a ghostly woman charging towards her with a sword in hand.

"Woah!" Jeanne moved out of the way and held her hands up in a gesture of peace. "Peace! I've come to set this right!"

"How dare you trod over my resting place!" the ghost wailed and the worgen was momentarily frozen in fear.

"May the Light bless you and your family!" Jeanne wrenched herself out of the way of another wild attack, mentally apologized, and hit the ghost with a pillar of moonfire. She dissipated with a screech and the world was silent once again.

She let out a shaky breath and lowered her hands. Her heart pounded in her throat and she quietly murmured a prayer over the grave before moving on. She found two more, each ending in the same way as the first encounter, before she spotted her brothers and she jogged to catch up to them.

"Are you alright," Cerdic asked her seriously, looking her up and down for injuries. However, she got the feeling he was referring to more than her physical wellbeing.

"I," she began and sighed, shaking her head. "I will be. Later. For now, let's get what we needed and move on."

He hummed and glanced at the grassy plots next to them. A small, sad smile lifted his lips and she glanced at him before focusing on the graves before them. One, to her left, read ' _Anthony Tibult Delroy. Beloved by the people, children and wife. You will never be forgotten_ '. Her eyes lingered over the name of her father before moving to the one directly next to it, heart aching with old hurt. ' _Isabelle Giselle Mayson Delroy. Deeply loved and will be deeply missed.'_

"It's been a long time since all of us have been here," Cerdic commented quietly, moving forward and kneeling at the foot of the grassy mounds. Jeanne and Ammon copied him and all three of them bowed their heads as Cerdic intoned.

"May the Light bless you, Mother, and you, Father. We must leave this land and we hope that you will watch over our home until we can return to reclaim it."

A breeze whispered by and a calming presence filled the area. Jeanne slowly lifted her head and stared into the proud yet sorrow filled eyes that were exact copies of her own.

"Papa," she breathed, voice tight with unshed tears and the man, whom Cerdic took after, beamed. Her eyes flickered to the woman next to him and gazed into an older version of her own face. "Mama."

"My children," her father murmured, voice echoing over her ears and her vision blurred with tears. His gaze raked over them, scrutinizing each sibling with a hunger she'd never seen in his eyes. "I cannot put into words of how _proud_ I, we, are of you three."

Her mother nodded, dark green eyes echoing the same emotions as her husband's. "You three stuck together when you needed each other the most. You chose to forgive each other for your mistakes and us for leaving you so soon." At this she paused, looking from each sibling to the next. "For that, I am sorry. I was selfish."

"It's okay Mama," Ammon whispered, tears shining in his eyes. He mustered up a smile, one that she echoed after a moment. "We understand why."

"Cerdic," Anthony turned to his eldest son, a grave look on his face. "Know that you are on the correct path. No one blames you for making mistakes, for they are part of the lessons you must learn. I... regret that I cannot be the one to guide you through them."

Cerdic nodded, valiantly trying to hold back tears. Their father gave him a proud smile and finally turned to Jeanne, expression softening with affection.

"My darling little Joanie," he murmured, voice thick with love. He paused to scrutinize her, love never wavering from his gaze. "You have grown to be such a beautiful young woman. So beautiful and so strong. Liam would have been a lucky lad."

Jeanne swallowed thickly, feeling the truesilver ring weigh her hand down like lead. Anthony felt the change in mood and he glanced towards the tunnel entrance.

"We will watch over him and keep him and our homeland safe. Go now with our blessing and be the people you were destined to be. We love you more than anything."

The spirits of their parents, beloved by all three, took one last long look at them and dissipated. Jeanne finally allowed her tears to fall as she bowed her head and watched as the earth shifted over the mounds, revealing two mementos unique to their family. Her gaze traced the Delroy crest, an anchor entwined with roses, on the two small pendants and carefully collected the one on her father's grave.

As one the siblings rose, each clutching their collected mementos, and marched back to Krennan, who took most of them.

"You keep yours," he murmured, eyeing the crest with somber eyes, "You can place them on Liam's grave yourselves. They're waiting for you three up on the hill for when you were ready."

They followed Krennan up the meandering path up the hill. The air of the cemetery was noticeably lighter, as if the spirits were again at peace. Soon they reached the top and joined the Greymanes and Crowleys gathered around the headstone.

Jeanne placed herself at Tess's side and allowed the older woman lean on her for support. The princess's dark eyes were shining with grief and tears slid down her fair cheeks. Jeanne gently squeezed her best friend's shoulders and turned her attention to Genn, who had stepped up over Liam's coffin.

"May the Light bless the spirits of our ancestors, for they've chosen to allow my son to rest upon this holy ground," he intoned, helping Krennan lower Liam's coffin reverently into the ground.

"It is here, surrounded by the heroes and patriots of Gilneas where he belongs."

Lorna stepped forward and laid a red rose onto the gravestone. Her eyes were misty as she said, "You were a true man of the people, Liam. Unlike any Royal I ever met. We'll make them pay for this."

She stepped back and allowed her father to lay his own memento, a golden ring bearing the Crowley crest. "Gilneas will remember your courage forever, Liam."

Cerdic stepped up and laid his pendant onto the stone. His eyes were somber, tortured, as he spoke, "Liam, you have been my best friend since childhood. I had hoped that we would raise our children alongside each other, like how we were, but that was not to be. Liam, you advocated for peace, no matter the situation, and that's what I admired most about you. I hope you find yours, my brother."

When Cerdic stood he caught Jeanne's eye and poured as much support as he could in that glance. With a sigh, Jeanne gently tore herself away from a silently sobbing Tess and slowly approached the grave, laying her offering and staring at the freshly churned earth underneath her.

"Liam," she started softly, a little self-conscious. She pushed that away and pretended that she was alone with him, like she had been the night before. "You were... many things to me. A friend, first and foremost. A brother, someone I could look up to. You taught me many things, much I wasn't supposed to know."

A choked laugh escaped her and she wiped away tears, trying to organize her thoughts.

"You've always told me that you loved the 'girly' side of me as much as the 'boyish' side. You encouraged me to learn and chase the talents I rejected for that very reason. You also encouraged me to learn how to fight, no matter what anyone else said.

"We will come back, this I promise. Don't get into too much trouble without me, you bloody prat."

Jeanne fell silent and she realized how exposed she felt. Head bowed, she shuffled back to Tess, who took her hand and squeezed.

"Joanie," the princess started, glancing from the grave to the druid in front of her, "Would—would you mind if... if you sang..? He loved to listen to you sing."

Jeanne was taken aback and a little embarrassed. Her eyes flickered over the crowd and conceded after all she saw was approval. She cleared her throat and wracked her brain for a song fitting for this setting. A familiar tune filled her head and she settled for it, taking a deep breath and allowing her voice to ring out over the still air.

"Stars were falling deep in the darkness; As prayers rose softly, petals at dawn. And as I listened, your voice seemed so clear. So calmly you were calling for the Light.

"Somewhere the sun rose, o'er dunes in the desert. Such was the stillness, I ne'er felt before..."

Jeanne's voice rose and fell over the still grounds, putting a melody to her grief. All she knew, in this moment, was that Liam wanted to hear her sing one last time. The haunting melody eventually faded into silence and time started up again. Genn shook himself out of whatever trance he was in and touched the mound of earth covering his only son.

"We'll return, Liam. I swear this to you."

* * *

The siblings escorted the Queen and Princess to Keel Harbor when they were ready to. The King had asked them to evacuate ahead of him while he waited for the last of the defenders to hold off the advancing Forsaken and their allies.

The Harbor was abuzz with activity when they got there. The Night Elves had indeed proven good on their word and brought vehicular weapons along with ships and many troops. Lorna and Darius were already there shouting orders and directing the rumbling vehicles to the battlefield in the Headlands.

"My Queen," Darius greeted with a respectful bow. "Are you and the Princess ready to evacuate?"

The elderly queen surveyed the harbor for a few moments, watching the activity with haunted eyes. "As ready as I will be. Cerdic, Ammon, and Jeanne are to be our guards."

"Actually," Lorna inserted, glancing at the warrior. "I need Cerdic to help me on one last mission while the last of the defenders tie up the Forsaken advance."

Queen Mia nodded in understanding. "He is yours then. Be safe; we don't need to bury any more of Gilneas's children today."

"Of course my Queen. Cerdic, meet Tobias and I at the hippogriffs in ten minutes."

With that Lorna spun around and trotted away, leaving the siblings and the Greymanes alone. Mia placed a hand on Tess's shoulder and gave her a look.

"We will go on ahead and board. We do not have much more time so please be quick."

Jeanne and Ammon nodded and watched the royals carefully board the ship, _Elune's Radiance_. As soon as they were safely on board the twins turned and, as one, embraced Cerdic tightly.

"We will see you soon, brother," Ammon whispered and Cerdic nodded.

"You protect them with your lives."

"Give them hell, Cerd," Jeanne muttered, giving him a squeeze. "And be safe, you bleeding idiot. I won't be there to heal your arse."

"Yes Joanie," he teased, breaking away from the hold. He glanced at the ship, which was abuzz with renewed energy, and stated. "You better get on. It should be leaving soon."

The twins gave Cerdic one last long look before they spun on their heels and boarded the ship. As soon as her booted heel came in contact with the gently pitching deck Jeanne felt a sense of calm wash over her; she was in her element on this floating wooden vessel. She took a deep draw of the sea air, gripped her twin's hand and shared her emotions through their Bond. His breath hitched and he squeezed her hand in return.

"Let's go find Mia," Ammon commented and Jeanne nodded her agreement.

They found the royals on the bow of the ship overlooking the bulk of Gilneas proper. They patiently stopped a few feet behind them to allow them their privacy.

"Ammon, Jeanne," Mia greeted with a somber smile. "It's beautiful, isn't it..?"

Jeanne looked out upon Gilneas, examining the rolling green hills and jagged grey rocks that made up her home. "Yes, and it will be even more so when we retake it."

The queen nodded absently. Jeanne's gaze drifted up the opposite coastline to land on a lone mansion sitting proudly on top of the cliffs. An ache closed around her heart as she remembered the sound of childrens' voices shouting gleefully above the sound of waves crashing on the rocks. She remembered the sound of her mother scolding them for running too close to the edge and the sound of her father laughing joyfully.

The memories soothed the ache in her heart and she smiled gently at the building, silently vowing to return to it one day. A sudden breeze caught her hair and sent strands of crimson fluttering about. The ship jolted underneath them and, before they knew it, they were heading to lands unknown to them.

* * *

_BOOM!_

A distant but definable explosion had everyone scrambling to the railing to get a better look at the source. Jeanne was among them, caught in the wave of people, and she watched in fascination as the giant airship shuddered and started making a nosedive, thick black smoke trailing from it.

"What happened?" A person asked from somewhere behind her.

"That airship somehow blew up!"

"I heard it was that Crowley girl! She'd been runnin' around like a headless chicken tryin' to recruit people for 'er mission!"

Jeanne's heart stopped when she heard that and she watched in newfound horror as the airship collided with the Wall and completely blew apart. Her hands started to shake as she shoved her way through the crowd, ignoring angry mutters, gripped the railing with white knuckles, and leaned over as far as she could.

"Come on, come on, please be alive," she muttered under hear breath, eyes frantically searching the area for any sign of an escape route. "You promised, Cerd! You _promised!"_

A flicker of movement caught her eye and she practically melted in relief when she saw faint figures riding on some kind of tawny winged beasts heading towards Keel Harbor. Her legs shook, so much so that she had to find someplace to sit, and she buried her face in trembling hands and allowed relieved tears flow down her cheeks.

After everything that had happened and all of the danger they'd been in, all of the siblings were alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song used: Full Circle by Loreena McKennitt (altered slightly to fit in with the Warcraft world)


	17. The End of One Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gilneans finally arrive at Teldrassil and are welcomed with open arms. Jeanne finally steps onto her destined path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are. The last chapter. However, this is only the beginning of the Delroy's story.
> 
> I cannot thank you all enough for being with me through this long ride. You guys are my motivation and this story would not be complete without your support. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you!
> 
> I will see you all in Soul of the Wolf, the next chapter of the Delroy Chronicles.

"LAND HO!"

The jubilant shout from up above had all the weary evacuees flooding onto the deck. Watching the commotion with a weary eye, Jeanne took a long draw from the teacup perched delicately on her fingers.

"Aren't you going to go up and see Teldrassil?" Tess asked from beside her and Jeanne shook her head.

"What's the rush?" she countered, setting her cup onto its saucer. "We'll be living there for awhile yet. I'm sure it'll still be there after I finish my tea."

"Well said," Genn rumbled amiably, glancing at the two women before setting his own tea down. "However, we near land and we must prepare to meet with Archdruid Stormrage and High Priestess Tyrande. Come Tess, your mother will help you dress."

"Yes Father," Tess sighed and waved goodbye to Jeanne, who returned in kind. As the king and princess exited the stateroom and both her brothers filed in, looking just as tired as she.

"Hey," she greeted, standing to clear away the remnants of teatime.

"Hey yourself," Cerdic shot back, taking a stack of plates out of her hands. "You need to get ready. We're arriving within the hour."

Jeanne rolled her eyes as she took the dishes to the sink. "We don't have the finery of our station to dress in anymore. This is as good as I'm going to get for now."

Cerdic opened his mouth to retort but Ammon cut him off with a sharp look. "She's right, you know; especially since we lost a lot from the storm."

Cerdic glanced between the twins and shook his head, a small smile worming onto his lips. "I—yeah. Sorry Joanie, nervous habit. You're just as beautiful in silks as in common wool."

The druid snorted though she could not hide the tinge of pink on her cheeks. "Save it for your wife, Cerd. Come on, we've still got guard duty."

With that Jeanne led the three from the small private eating area and to the Royal family's living quarters. Tess and Mia were already waiting for them looking as fresh as the circumstances allow. The queen smiled gently at the three, leaned her weight to one side subtly and held her hand out to Jeanne.

"Jeanne, I have something to give you." Mia tugged the druid closer and pressed a folded piece of worn velvet into her hand. "I've been meaning to give you this for quite some time."

Jeanne shot the queen a small smile of gratitude and plucked the folds apart with curious fingers. Her breath hitched when she found the gift nestled comfortably in the velvet and gave Mia a wide-eyed stare of astonishment.

The queen smiled, brown eyes shining with pride. "It was a gift from your mother to me. Isabelle was a wonderful jeweler; one of the best in Gilneas. I think it is fitting for these to find their way back to you now that you're about to go off on your own adventure."

Jeanne's eyes watered and Mia swept her into a tight embrace. "Take care of them, my other daughter."

Jeanne nodded against her shoulder and gazed at the pair of golden hooped earrings nestled in her palm. Tiny imbedded emeralds and rubies were arranged skilfully to make miniature roses bloom across the yellow metal. If she looked hard enough she would see her mother's initials stamped right below the stud.

"Thank you," she whispered on a choked breath, drawing back from the hug and giving the queen a bright smile. The druid quickly put them through her earlobes and dried her cheeks.

A soft jolt signified that they had docked and the crew hurried to get the ship tied down. The siblings turned to see that Genn had finally exited his quarters and strode past him. At an unspoken signal the families followed, Cerdic tailing the king, Ammon a step behind the queen, and Jeanne strode beside the princess.

The families arrived onto the decks and the evacuees parted to allow them through first. The elves that made up the crew led them up the lush yet broken island and towards a softly glowing portal embedded under the roots of a great tree. Jeanne had to fight the urge to stare up at the towering tree that made up Teldrassil in awe and focused on containing her nerves. A smooth hand took hers, squeezed softly in reassurance and Jeanne sent a small smile of gratitude to Tess beside her.

The elven druids paused at the foot of the tree and the guards saluted them. The most of the elves stepped through the portal save the one that Genn, and by extension Cerdic, had gotten close to.

"Step through; Archdruid Stormrage awaits on the other side," Talar instructed and Genn dipped his head once before stepping forward. Jeanne watched in amazement as the light engulfed him, as if hiding him from sight, and stepped through a moment after Tess. She noted how the magic felt cool to her skin as it washed over her and, before she could even blink, she stepped out the other side. She barely got a glimpse of the violet hued city before a pair of figures standing politely off to one side grabbed her attention.

"Welcome, King and Queen of Gilneas," the male greeted, his voice rolling over them like the purr of a cat, friendly yet hinting at ferocity. "You and your citizens are welcome here."

Jeanne studied the male, from the tip of the stag antlers sweeping out from his viridian hair to the grey feathers sprouting out of his arms to his cat-like feet, and felt a facet slide into place in her soul; she was where she was supposed to be. The Archdruid's gaze swept the assembled crowd and their eyes met for a long moment before the High Priestess caught her attention.

Like she would expect from a priestess, the woman emitted an aura of peace and calm. Her midnight blue hair flowed down her shoulder blades, contrasting with the soft white gown she wore. Her voice matched her appearance as she spoke to them, her soft voice reverberating over the tired and cowed Gilneans.

"We are glad to see you arrived safely. We have arranged a niche for you and your people to reside in the city. Come, we shall show it to you."

As one, Archdruid Stormrage and the high priestess turned and, with a waved hand, led the last mass of Gilneans across the city. Jeanne could not stop herself from staring into the city in complete wonder and, from the barely uttered curses and soft splashes of disturbed water coming from behind her, nor could any of her countrymen. The city seemed to radiate a soft purple glow, giving the architecture a dreamlike air. From between the explosion of growth the worgen thought she glimpsed an elf gently stroking a doe and, to her utter dismay, her mouth started to water; they hadn't had any fresh meat since before the Battle and _Light_ did she miss it.

The group crossed one last stone bridge and gasps of amazement pulled Jeanne's thoughts away from her stomach. As she turned her head she felt her jaw drop at the sight. Before them was a giant tree building, much like the rest of the buildings here. However, unlike the dreamlike, airy structures, this one was dark and gloomy and smelt of _home_. It was huge, rivaling Tal'doren in Gilneas, and had much of the same structure.

Many worgen, most of them in their pack form, were already milling about when they were spotted. Howls of welcome sang through the air and were met with many howls of their own. Jeanne watched as families were once again reunited and she felt a small smile flitter on her lips.

The worgen fell silent as Genn lifted his hand and they all turned their attention on him and their elven hosts. The king, humbled by everything that has taken place, bowed his head in reverence to the Archdruid and High Priestess and spoke.

"On behalf of my people and myself, I thank you for your aid and your hospitality. Gilneas will never forget your kindness. You have our service."

"We need not be so hasty, King Greymane," Archdruid Stormrage replied as Genn straightened back up. His golden eyes swept the exhausted Gilneans and returned to the king before him. "Allow the tired to rest and the hungry to eat. We will discuss matters when that is done and not a moment sooner. We will feast tonight to celebrate the arrival of the Gilnean worgen!"

Another chorus of howl rent the air, though not as enthusiastic as before. The bitter taste of resentment—resentment to why they were there in the first place—coated Jeanne's mouth, hot and thick, and she barely resisted the urge to spit it out. If the Archdruid noticed the change in mood among the Gilneans he didn't show it, instead bowing to Genn and Mia and swiftly departing. Jeanne watched him go, mentally reminding herself to talk to him after the feast. She was promised better and, come hell or high water, she _will_ get it. A soft touch jolted the druid out of her thoughts and she turned to Tess beside her.

"Come along, Mother and Father wish to have a light lunch with you and your brothers."

Jeanne nodded and, after sending a final glance in the direction the Archdruid had left, followed Tess to where the king and queen were waiting.

The feast was nothing short of exuberant, piled high with foods and drink native to both the elves and, surprisingly, Gilneas. Every Gilnean turned out to attend alongside a fair amount of elves. Jeanne found herself seated near the head of the table, Tess to her right, Ammon to her left, and Cerdic catercorner from her. The young man directly across from her she vaguely identified as the only surviving son of Lord Ashbury, Eadrik. He was one of the reasons why the lord had hated the worgen, if she recalled Gwen's hasty explanations well enough. Cerdic gave her a small smile from his place on the king's right hand side before turning his attention to their hosts.

Unlike the feasts that Jeanne had been to, the ones that King Greymane used to host when she was a child and even those she recalled with some difficulty, the elven leaders did not stand to deliver a speech to everyone present. Instead, high priestess Tyrande simply waved to the musicians to begin playing and thus begun the feast.

The feast lasted long enough for the songs of crickets accompanied the songs the musicians wove with skillful fingers. Jeanne and her brothers stayed with the Royals long after many of her fellow Gilneans left to sleep off their drink. The siblings had respectively stayed back while Genn, Archdruid Stormrage, who insisted they call him Malfurion in private, and High Priestess Tyrande discussed what the Gilneans' purpose would be from that point on. Jeanne heard them discussing something about a proposed summit between all the races of the Alliance with the sole purpose to vote Gilneas back into the fold.

Finally, after the rough details for the summit had been hammered out, Genn excused himself, promising to meet with them later to further discuss matters. The Royals left, taking Ammon and Cerdic with them, and Jeanne was left alone with the druid of legend and his mate.

The high priestess and Malfurion were quietly discussing things between themselves when Jeanne steeled herself and stepped forward. Two pairs of eyes, one glowing silver and the other the colour of amber, turned to her.

"Is there anything you need young druid?" Tyrande softly inquired and Jeanne nodded hesitantly. The elves waited expectantly and the worgen took the time to reexamine Malfurion, comparing his features to the hazy vision she was given.

"My name is Jeanne Delroy. I was given a vision, back in Gilneas," she started and paused briefly to gauge their reactions. Both looked politely intrigued so she continued, "In my vision I was running through the dark forest, one we call the Blackwald, and I came upon Tal'doren. Inside the Great Wolf was waiting for me and told me that my brother and I must go to him to regain our humanity."

Both elves wore expressions of interest. They nodded for her to continue and, though Jeanne felt a little foolish, she forged on.

"In the middle of my vision Cenarius came and told me that I have a vast amount of raw power and that I would need a better trainer than the one I was given, lest I destroy myself with it. He then gave me a vision of the teacher he sensed I would need and it was..."

Jeanne finished with a vague wave in Malfurion's direction. The Archdruid himself looked taken aback but not entirely surprised. Tyrande's astonished eyes flickered between both druids and awaited her mate's answer to such a claim.

"I sense what Cenarius claims, young worgen," he answered, voice slow and thoughtful, "I felt his touch upon you the moment I saw you. The three druids I sent there have also claimed to have felt it upon meeting you."

Jeanne shifted her weight anxiously, resisting the urge to hide as Malfurion's eyes seemed to examine the essence of her very soul. She felt very exposed and she did not like it one bit. After what seemed like an eternity he gave a tiny nod and refocused confident eyes onto hers.

"Very well, I agree to take you as my apprentice." At Jeanne's blatant relief he held up a finger to keep her quiet as he continued, "Do you know what this all entails?"

"To help me hone my abilities in both magical combat and martial combat, I would think."

A small smile flashed across his lips. "The most important thing I will teach you is _control._ Remember that. You will call me 'Master' in this tongue and 'Shan'do' in Darnassian. Rest tonight, for we will start on the morrow. I will send for you at dusk."

Barely keeping her giddiness at bay Jeanne bowed deeply. "I am deeply in your debt, Master."

When he nodded his acknowledgment and dismissal Jeanne practically bounced away, heart feeling lighter than she ever remembered it. Her hands found the thin silver necklace she's taken to wearing and fingers traced the engraved truesilver ring hanging from the end of it. Though sorrow, hot and familiar, gripped the edges of her heart, she knew that he would approve the path she walked. Jeanne turned her eyes up to the dark sky and the stars that glittered above and thanked whomever was watching that she and her people survived.

For if they hadn't, she would not be known as Joan, daughter of Anthony and Isabelle Delroy and Apprentice to Malfurion Stormrage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _They won't call me Mother, or Sister, or Wife,_
> 
> _They will know me or not by the strength of my life,_
> 
> _I will burn with a light of my own._
> 
> _They'll know me as Joan._
> 
> _They'll know me as Joan._
> 
> _Joan - Heather Dale_


End file.
